Harry Potter and the Law of Merlin
by Ravenscroft
Summary: The defeat of Voldemort by Harry, and Voldemort's son's first year at Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. *FINISHED*
1. Prologue

Harry Potter and the Law of Merlin  
  
Harry looked around him; there was chaos and destruction everywhere.  
  
He should have felt differently, but he didn't. He should have moved, but he didn't. He should have avoided this, but he didn't. He should have done the right thing . . . but he hadn't.  
  
How could he feel so happy, yet so sad at the same time? Everything had come to an end, soon all his troubles would be over and he would have no worries left in the entire world.  
  
He wanted to cry, but he hadn't cried for three months so far, and he wasn't going to start now.  
  
Everything had happened so quickly, but yet the whole thing had been slowly simmering for eighteen whole years, and two hours ago it had reached boiling point.  
  
Confused thoughts drifted around Harry's minds like seaweed drifting through the ocean.  
  
Who was left? What had they been left from? Where was he? Harry's knowledge of the physical world grew less and less, until finally his weary body broke down into a deep slumber.  
  
What had happened to him this dreadful night?  
  
*  
  
'I love you.'  
  
'Thanks, bye.'  
  
'Bye.'  
  
As Harry left the common room to go to his dorm, he realised his dreadful mistake.  
  
For once in his life, this was a time when he shouldn't have said thank you! He tried to bring himself to walk back, but he just couldn't do it.  
  
Maybe if she had noticed that he hadn't said 'I love you' back, she might break up with him.  
  
He knew he was a coward, a coward on the rebound to be precise, but Ginny had waited all her life to date Harry Potter.  
  
Ron would never forgive him if he broke her heart. He supposed he saw Ginny, as Cho had seen him.  
  
Harry had waited for Cho Chang to go out with him for what had seemed like an eternity. After the death of Cedric she had been so distraught that she had dated no one, and found solace only whilst talking to Harry about that fateful night.  
  
She wanted to find out what had really happened, and it seemed to bring her peace.  
  
When she had finally brought herself out of that black hole, she mistook her deep friendship with Harry for something else, and Harry had foolishly let himself be taken along by all of this, even though he knew it was wrong.  
  
After three months, Cho had seen the light herself, and even though she knew she was breaking Harry's heart, she broke up with him, even though hurting him so much took a piece of her away from inside.  
  
Now on the rebound, Harry had seen Ginny, and did the same thing that Cho had done to him, even though now, he was too scared to get himself out of it like Cho had. Harry saw this all as rather ironic, as one of the attributes he had to get into Gryffindor, had been bravery.  
  
But the goings on his life, were but small fry as to what was happening outside, in the world into which, after he took his NEWTS, Harry would be thrust into.  
  
The outside world had darkened so much, that it seemed to be a place devoid of smiles, and the only thing that seemed to keep Harry smiling was 'Weasleys wizard wheezes.' For amazingly, through all of this doom and gloom, the Weasley twins had managed to keep their sense of humour, well, somebody had to!  
  
As Harry opened the door do his dormitory, he saw a sight that seemed to him a little déja-vu. His bedclothes were torn, his trunk had been ransacked and nothing in his area of the dorm had been left unturned.  
  
This exact sight had greeted him many years ago, when he had owned a diary, owned by one 'Mr Tom Riddle', which Ginny had turned over his bedroom to find, she had poured so many secrets into it.  
  
He was cautious to approach his bed; he knew that in Hogwarts there was very little chance of him being harmed, but in the magical world, you could never tell what would happen.  
  
It was dark, in fact it was almost midnight, and all the other people were asleep, or at least quiet. This was very strange, how could Dean, Neville, Seamus and Ron slept through this.  
  
Everything was thrown around so violently that whoever had done it, would have made a noise.  
  
The curtains around every bed were drawn, and he could hear Neville's gentle snoring, true, it was light, but it was definitely there. Harry took out his wand, he did not step any closer.e  
  
'Auxillio Dumbledore.' he neede help, and the headmaster of Hogwarts would be the person to give him that.  
  
The simple charm he had performed was merely a way to summon Dumbledore, but to let him know previously that he needed help.  
  
'Murmillavos.' this was another charm, this time a little more complicated, to protect him with a sort of magical suit of armour, which could protect him rom most spells, except the very powerful.  
  
Harry dared not move, he did not speak above a whisper, he did not know who had done this, or whether they were still here. Last time it had been a fellow Gryffindor, for who else could it have been, nobody else had the common room password.  
  
But then there had been another incident the following years, in which a convicted criminal had found his way into Harry's dormitory.  
  
Yes, it was correct that this person was Sirius Black, innocent of all the crimes he had been accused of, and he only had Harry's welfare in mind.  
  
But this just proved a point that anyone could find ways to enter the castle when they are forbidden.  
  
But Harry consoled himself with the thought that he knew security had been stepped up, and that Dumbledore would arrive in a minute, he didn't want to open the curtains of the bed, for they could be a perect hiding place for anyone.  
  
But the person who now stepped into the dimly lit doorway was only Dumbledore, and Harry lowered his wand.  
  
'You called for me Harry, are you in danger?'  
  
Harry looked for the right words to say. Was he in danger?  
  
He had certainly felt like he was a minute ago, but the effect of Dumbledore entering the room had been enormous, Harry now felt safer, as he usually did when Dumbledore was around.  
  
'Someone has wrecked my trunk, and ruined everything I own. I'm sorry if you see this as a little pathetis proffesor, but the last time it happened it was caused with bad intent, and this doesn't seem like the kind of practical joke that Ron would play.'  
  
It all seemed very trivial now that he put his feelings into words, but something around this place didn't feel quite right, and he couldn't place what it was.  
  
'I understand Harry.' said Dumbledore, 'Stay where you are, I can feel dark magic in this room.'  
  
Dumbledore walked over to the nearest bed, Seamus'.  
  
He took his wand out of his pocket and held it in the air before him; his hand grabbed the edge of the curtain, and in one swift movement, pulled it back.  
  
The sight that greeted the two men was enought to make Harry's knees buckle beneath him, and a look of shock pass over Dumbledore's face.  
  
Seamus Finnigan lay on his bed, still and unmoving. His eyes were wide and staring, his mouth was streched open in a kind of silent scream, he was dead.  
  
Dumbledore then voiced something both of them already knew.  
  
'It's avada kedavra.'  
  
His voice was expressionless, but if Harry could have spoken at that precise moment, if could speak at all, his voice would be nothing above a whisper.  
  
Whose evil work was this? So many precautions had been put on Hogwarts castle; yet after all that, someone had managed to evade them.  
  
Could this be the work of Voldemort? Surely not, Voldemort could not get into Hogwarts, especially with Dumbledore as headmaster.  
  
Dumbledore approached Dean Thomas' bed with extreme caution. There would be no dark wizards in this room, but would there be another death?  
  
As Dumbledore pulled back the red velvet curtain, he proved that indeed, there would be another death. And the same thing was proven yet again when they unveiled Neville's bed, Harry felt worse when he saw Neville just lying there, the obviously enchanted sound of his snoring filled the room still.  
  
There was only one bed left, and that was Ron's. Dumbledore put his hand on the curtains surrounding Ron's bed, but just as he was about to pull them back, Harry spoke.  
  
'Stop, don't.' he wanted to pull back those curtains, Ron had been Harry's first ever friend all of those years ago, and now it was Harry's fault that he could too be dead, like all the others. yes, Harry felt it was his place to open Ron's curtains.  
  
Yet when he pulled back the curtaons, a new sight awaited him, the bed was empty, and only a note lay on the covers.  
  
Harry felt sweet relief at the sight of an empty bed, but dread at what Ron was being put through. Harry could almost guess at what the letter said before he read it. He read it out loud.  
  
Dear Mr Potter,  
  
Did I scare you? I'm dreadfully sorry.  
  
Actually, the work you see before you is just the work of one of my less faithful servants. Yes Harry, I did say less faithful.  
  
I have not the time to write about how all of this came about, and you are probably never going to find out.  
  
To get to the meat of it though, basically I would like you to come and give me a little visit. You may find that some people that you know are already there, let me see ... oh yes!  
  
There's Ron, he wasn't so keen to come and see me you know, and Ginny, and Hermione. I'd advise you to come; I don't think I need to tell you why.  
  
(Sometimes being evil, as you would call it, can be so repetetive, excuse my little joke. I get excited when I can feel a massacre coming on.)  
  
You know where to find me Harry, Little Hangleton, that God-awful place, the graveyard.  
  
You can bring a wand if you like, but it won't do you any good whatsoever, and don't think of bringing that headmaster of yours.  
  
Actually, in fact you can bring him if you like, it will be fun to kill him after all these years.  
  
If you hadn't already noticed, I have taken all the little remnants you had of your parents, and brought them here, to where I am. I must say, your mother looks particularly ravishing in that wedding dress, and thanks for the invisibility cloak, that will come in handy for the future.  
  
So anyway, must go. Places to destroy, people to kill, all of that. Oh and Potter, you have until sunrise to save your precious little amigos, or they die, I won't wait around forever you know.  
  
And you know that I couldn't possibly just give them avada kedavra, far too simple. You know I am the way, you know I will have all power.  
  
And nobody can stop me, least of all you.  
  
I am Lord Voldemort  
  
'That's no hoax.' Harry knew that this wasn't just some trick.  
  
Harry was about to go, to run out of the room and look for any way possible to get to little Hangleton. His best friends, and his girlfriend, were in danger, and who knows what Voldemort could be doing to them now!  
  
Would he be torturing them, Harry didn't want to think about it. And is that all that Voldemort wanted, to kill Harry?  
  
There had to be a snag. Harry began to walk out of the room.  
  
'Stop Harry, wait.' Harry was confused.  
  
'Do you want them all to die? Because if I don't go, Voldemort will kill them all. They're my best friends ...'  
  
Harry saw the look on Dumbledore's face, and immediately stopped talking. There was a look on his face, that Harry had only seen once before, when he had crashed a lying car into a tree in the grounds.  
  
He had looked so disappointed in Harry then, and Harry had vowed never to be the subject of one of those looks again.  
  
But here he was, and he knew that he had got carried away.  
  
'Do you really think I would just sit there and let any of my students die at the hands of Lord Voldemort?.'  
  
Harry was disgraced.  
  
'No Professor.'  
  
'We will go and confront Voldemort, as he asks us, but we can't just go storming off, for even you know how clever Voldemort is. We need to do some very quick preperation, and I need you to know something, it may help you.'  
  
Harry was puzzled, what could there be about Voldemort that Harry didn't know. Over the years he had learnt so much about Voldemort that there was surely nothing that important Harry needed to know.  
  
Dumbledore lead him out of the room, and Harry followed. He was leading him to his office, Harry knew immediately, for he had lost count of the time he had been there over the past two years.  
  
Fawkes was still there, though he was a little bedraggled looking, because he had only been reborn quite recently, he was still beautiful, and would soon be at his full glory.  
  
If the situation hadn't been so serious, Harry would have perhaps asked Dumbledore whether Fawkes was ever going to die.  
  
'There is something from your past, that not many people know, but I think it should be kept from you no longer. The death eaters know it, and Voldemort knows it.'  
  
'What is it?'  
  
'I cannot tell you.'  
  
Harry was deeply confused. Dumbledore had seemed so desperate to tell Harry what ever it was, and now he did not tell him.  
  
What was the purpose of this? He could have been on his way to help Ron, Hermione and Ginny.  
  
'Do you remember, so many years ago, when you came to Hogwarts and had your second encounter with Voldemort?'  
  
'Yes.' of course he did, how could he forget? Voldemort's snake-like eyes, barely alive.  
  
Since then he had been through worse, but that had been the first time he had seen Voldemort since he had been attacked as a baby.  
  
'When you woke up in the hospital wing later on, you asked if you could ask me some questions, and the first question you asked me, I said I couldn't answer.'  
  
'I don't remember what it was.'  
  
Dumbledore reached into his cupboard, and Harry had a feeling that he knew what Dumbledore was about to get out.  
  
Sure enough, when Dumbledore brought his hand out, he was holding the pensieve.  
  
'I stored the thought in here, I thought it was something I ought to remember.'  
  
He placed the pensive on the edge of the desk, an prodded it with hhis wand.  
  
A figure rose out of it, it was Harry, he recognised himself as a lot younger, and he was lying down in a hospital bed, which was revolving. When he heard his own past voice, it sounded distant and echoey.  
  
'Well ... Voldemort said he only killed my mother because she tried to stop him killing me. But why would Voldemort want to kill me in the first place?' asked the young Harry.  
  
You could hear the past Dumbledore sighing.  
  
'Alas, the first thing that you ask me, I cannot tell you. Not today. Not now. You will know one day ... put it from your mind for now Harry. When you are older ... I know you hate to hear this ... when you are ready, you will know.'  
  
Dumbledore prodded the pensieve once again, the young Harry disappeared.  
  
'But I still don't know that, is it time I should know?'  
  
'Yes, but I can't tell you; it's not my place to tell you. I said to you, all those years ago, that you would know when you were older, and you would know when you were ready. Now I see that you will never know without help, how can you be expected to?'  
  
'But how can you help me? I thought I knew everything, but if this is so important, why did nobody tell me?'  
  
Dumbledore looked at Harry with a look that reminded him somewhat of pity.  
  
'I don't know all of the answers Harry. If I knew all of the answers, we wouldn't be in this mess, just let me tell you this; this is something that you need to figure out for yourself.' Harry nodded. 'I am going to read you something, it is called Merlin's Law.'  
  
Harry knew, from History of Magic classes, that Merlin was an old wizard from history, who was even wiser than Dumbldore.  
  
Awards were given under his name, for eextreme bravery or heroism, but Harry had never come across a law written by Merlin. Dumbledore took out an old scroll, and Harry saw him unfold it, it seemed ancient.  
  
'This scripture,' began Dumbledore, 'is not so much of a law, but more of a prophecy. It was made by Merlin, many years ago but was ignored for hundreds of years. When Voldemort started his reign of terror, it was brought to life again, but then it was fulfilled, so then filed away.' Harry listened intently, did this prophecy include him? It certainly included Voldemort. Dumbledore started to read.  
  
'When the two powers clash, and the children, of the children, of so many more children meet, the two enemies (who have so much in common) shall duel again. The heir shall triumph again like his ancestor before him. But only for a few years, shall wizards be safe. No more than this has been revealed to me. The original duelling pair shall never see how much they had in common, and if only one of the powers can realise this, it shall be the key. It shall be the key.'  
  
Harry couldn't see how this would help him, he couldn' work out who 'the powers' were, and he knew better than to ask Dumbledore, because he knew he wouldn't tell him.  
  
'Harry, I know you probably don't understand yet, but I know you will see soon. Now we must go, goodness knows what that evil man is putting your friends through.'  
  
'How will we get there?' Harry could think of several ways, but none of them seemed quick, or good enough.  
  
'I'm going to have to take a risk.' said Dumbledore cautiously. You haven't yet started taking an apparating test, but no, I can't think of any other way. Usually it is impossible to apparate out of Hogwarts, but I think I know how to bend the rules a little.''  
  
Harry gulped, he'd heard of things happening to people who were apparating, and he certainly didn't want to get spliched. But the memory of having the crutiatus curse put on him was too painful, and it was the thing that made him decide, he would take that risk.  
  
'I need you to take your wand, swirl it around your head once, and think so hard of the place you need to go to. Then, say the word apparate, and you should be taken there.'  
  
Dumbledore managed to keep the worried look from his face, even though inside he was very unsure.  
  
'But Professor, how do you know how to get there?'  
  
'There was an investigation many years ago, made by muggle death inspector thingies; I forget what they are called. Two dead bodies in a house nearby, Voldemort was responsible for both. I remember that graveyard, I'm sure I'll be fine, in fact, I'll go first.'  
  
Harry almost objected, but his headmaster seemed so sure.  
  
He took his mind back, it had been a few years since he had been to the graveyard, but the experience had been so traumatic, he could remember everything about it.  
  
He had the image in his mind, if he could have, he would have chosen to apparate at the edge of the graveyeard, but he didn't have a very clear picture of it, and he didn't want to take the risk as he had never apparated before.  
  
He raised his wand above his head, and swirled it round himseelf, he felt very stupid. He thought about the graveyard as hard as he could, and said 'apparate.'  
  
Nothing seemed to happen between him being in Dumbledore's office and then being thrust into total darkness.  
  
As he looked around him, he saw no one, was this a trap? Where was Dumbledore?  
  
'Dumbldore!' cried Harry out loud. 'Professor Dumbledore, are you there?'  
  
He looked around him, and realised what was different. There were graves, and he was standing on the very same grass as he had been all those years ago, but he was standing in a circle of mirrors.  
  
Harry held out his wand in front of him, preparing to strike.  
  
He didn't care how many times Voldemort told him that his wand wouldn't help; he was going to use it all the same.  
  
Suddenly a figure appeared in one of the mirrors, then another, then another until he was in each of the mirrors.  
  
It was Voldemort, and he was using magical illusion. This was not fair! But then, this was Voldemort, and when had he ever been known to play fair?  
  
'He isn't here.' Voldemort's voice was high pitched and cruel.  
  
'What do you mean?' asked Harry.  
  
'Dumbledore, he isn't here. I don't know where he is, but it seems that he isn't such a great wizard after all, he can't even apparate to the right place!'  
  
Then Voldemort uttered that horrible laughh, the one that had been in Harry's nightmares ever since he was born.  
  
'Where are my friends Voldemort?' asked Harry. He would stall Voldemort when he tried to kill him, but first, he would have to find Ron, Hermione and Ginny.  
  
'You'll find out in good time.' said Voldemort. 'Aren't you wondering where I am?'  
  
'Show yourself Voldemort. If you are so sure that I am going to die, then at least come out here and see me in person! If you don't, I'll come behind those mirrors.'  
  
He tried to move out behind one of the mirrors, but there was some sort of force field, keeping him inside the circle. Voldemort disappeared from the mirrors.  
  
'Don't you prefer it the other way Potter? Wouldn't you like to see me?'  
  
Harry did not reply. Instead, he cast a simple spell, the accio charm, as if trying to bring one of the mirrors to him. His spell did not work, it only bounced off the edge of the force field, and Harry had to dodge to avoid it before it fizzled out. His murmillavos charm had worn off. Voldemort spoke again.  
  
'Don't even try it Potter, none of your puny spells can break my force field. Just look in the mirrors.'  
  
Harry did as he was told.  
  
In the mirrors, he saw an image that brought relief and horror to his face. He saw two gravestones side by side, and tied to them were Ron and Ginny, they unlike Hermione seemed to have all their wits about them.  
  
They were silent, but very alert. Hermione was standing in front of them, holding a wand, and Harry didn't need to be told that she had been put under the imperius curse.  
  
He knew what was coming, and he would have given anything not to hear it.  
  
'Duel with me Harry, or she destroys all of your parents possessions, kills them slowly, and then herself.'  
  
Harry felt sick; this was the worst thing he could have imagined.  
  
To see one of his friends kill his other friends was even worse than seeing Voldemort hurt them himself. He would duel with Voldemort, and he would be prepared for whatever happened.  
  
He didn't know what trick Voldemort had up his sleeves, but he was prepared to sacrifice himself for his friends.  
  
'I will duel with you, but you have to give me a fair fight. I want you to take away this force field, and you have to duel fairly.'  
  
'Good boy Harry, I knew you would see sense. I'll take this force field away, give you a fair duel, if that's what you want ...'  
  
He laughed bitterly, he clicked his finger.  
  
Harry tried to walk forwards and found that there was nothing stopping him any more. But Voldemort did not appear.  
  
'Come out here and duel.' said Harry fiercly 'You want a duel, well there's one waiting out here, so show yourself.'  
  
'Stop trying to be brave,' said Voldemort. 'you aren't being brave, you're scared, because you're vulnerable and you know it.'  
  
Harry said nothing, even though he really knew that Voldemort was right, he wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that.  
  
Voldemort carried on talking, but he did not come out from wherever he was.  
  
'Don't spoil this moment Potter, I've waited so long to kill you, and even though sometimes unexpected circ u mstances have intervened, I always knew I'd get you someday.'  
  
There was smugness in his voice.  
  
'But why though? Why do you want to kill me so much?'  
  
Harry knew that Dumbledore wanted him to figure it out for himself, but if it was to help him, he should know it, if Voldemort would tell him.  
  
'Harry Potter, you were nearly the end of me, but not quite. I'd heard a prophecy that you would be the end of me, it's called Merlin's law, you may have heard it. Well, I'd heard a prophecy that someone on your Father's side of the family would kill me, and do you really think I would just let that pass me by?'  
  
Harry thought about the thing that Dumbledore had just told him.  
  
When the two powers clash, and the children of the children of so many more children meet, the enemies (who have so much in common) shall duel again.  
  
Was Voldemort saying that he was one of the powers, and that Harry was the other? And if so, who was his ancestor?  
  
Voldemort's was Slytherin, Salazar Slytherin, in which case, who was Harry's?  
  
The two enemies ... but who had been the enemy of Slytherin? Harry could only think of ... but surely it couldn't be, could it?  
  
A mortified expression must have spread over his face, because then Voldemort said:  
  
'That's right, you're the last remaining descendant of ...'  
  
Harry intervened, the sentence just wouldn't sound right coming from Voldemort.  
  
'Godric Gryffindor. I ... am the last remaining descendant of Godric Gryffindor!'  
  
This sentence seemed unreal, but it made sense.  
  
When the two powers clash, and the children of the children of so many more children meet (Voldemort and Harry) the two enemies (who have so much in common) (Gryffindor and Slytherin) shall duel again. (Voldemort's attack on Harry.) The heir shall triumph as his before him did. But only for a few years shall wizards be safe. The original dueling pair shall never realize how much they had in common, and if only one of the powers can realize this, it shall be the key. It shall be the key.  
  
But what did they have in common? This is what Harry couldn't work out. And how was him knowing that he was the heir of Gryffindor help him to defeat Voldemort?  
  
Voldemort was smiling, and Harry could feel nothing but hatred for him. He had killed his whole family, just to save his own skin, and many others for meaningless purposes.  
  
Now Harry understood why Voldemort had been let into Slytherin, even though he was a half-blood.  
  
'What do you want?' asked Harry 'Why did you do all this? Was it just to avenge youe ancestors, or because you are a power hungry bully?'  
  
Harry was all worked up now, he knew his life was in danger, but in the corner of his eye he could see Hermione fighting the imperius curse and he needed to keep Voldemort talking.  
  
'Oh Harry, you know nothing do you. If you understood you would know that it was for all of those reasons and more, some that no one will ever know. Tonight, your dear friend Hermione has already killed several people in your dormitory.'  
  
'No, you're wrong! You killed those boys in my dormitory tonight, but you had to get one of my friends to do it for you. You're SICK!'  
  
He was so angry now he would have just stormed roun the mirrors and confronted Voldemort there if he didn't think that it wouldn't have put Ron, Hermione and Ginny at risk.  
  
'I will tolerate no more Harry Potter; prepare to fight your last battle. Lord Voldemort will not be spoken to like that.'  
  
'You can't duel me, priori incantatum remember!'  
  
'You can thank Mr. Malfoy for that; it is with his wand which I will kill you. A powerful enough wizard may not need his own wand, even for tasks like this.'  
  
Then he appeared, as if out of nowhere in front of Harry, and raised his wand.  
  
Before Harry could think of a spell to use, he had been hit with the full body-bind.  
  
This wasn't fair! This was no fair duel; there was nothing he could do now.  
  
Apparently Ron and Ginny could both see him from where they were, because there was a look of sheer panic on each of their faces.  
  
Hermione still seemed to be fighting the imperius curse, but she was having trouble. Then Harry could no longer see his friends in the mirrors, for in each of the mirrors stood now a death eater, and behind them stood another death eater, and behind them many more.  
  
He recognized many of the faces, but there was none he didn't expect to see, unless they were in the background.  
  
Voldemort had raised his wand, Harry wanted to move, but he couldn't! He shouldn't end like this, there was no trick, or complicated spell, Voldemort had simply conned him, this was not the way it was meant to be, and he knew it.  
  
There was an inane grin on each of the death eaters faces, Harry Potter was going to die, after all that had happened, the boy who lived ... would live no more.  
  
'Expelliarmus!' Hermione's voice rang through the darkness, and Harry knew it was his lifeline.  
  
He was so relieved that he didn't even hear the spell she used to free him from the body-bind. He got to his feet, luckily he was unhurt, just a little bruised where he had fallen over.  
  
He could not see Hermione, but she was obviously within hearing distance.  
  
'Thank you Hermione, thank you!'  
  
'Shut up Harry, you have to fight him! I can't help you yet, but you know who you are, go Harry!' Voldemort was still looking for his wand.  
  
'Malfoy, restrain her, Pritchard, watch the boy!'  
  
Voldemort had regained himself by now, and had full control of his wand; Harry thought that he deserved a little taste of his own medicine.  
  
'Petrificus totalus!'  
  
Voldemort was hit with the body bind, though Harry dared not do any more, he could feel the presence of the death eaters around him.  
  
Obviously they had been told not to get involved, or Voldemort would be back on his feet.  
  
Instead, he walked around Voldemort's frozen body; he dropped his wand, as a sign that he would not attack, for the moment. He couldn't just kill Voldemort, for the death eaters would be there straight away, and Harry wouldn't stand a chance.  
  
He needed time to think of something to do.  
  
He looked through the gaps between every mirror, but he could see nothing behind them.  
  
Then suddenly he caught sight of something, it seemed to be far in the distance. He could just make out four figures, two of them had red hair, and one was battling with someone in black robes.  
  
Lucius Malfoy. He had been sent to go after Hermione, and she was fighting back.  
  
But there was no sign of the death eaters, for they were still in the mirrors surrounding Harry.  
  
And then there was the Law of Merlin, what did he possibly have in common with Voldemort?  
  
They both had black hair, green eyes, and they could both speak parseltongue, but Harry didn't think that Merlin had meant any of these.  
  
Suddenly he thought of a memory, one that had happened on his very first day of Hogwarts.  
  
Hmm, difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind, either. There's talent, oh my goodness yes - and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting ... so where shall I put you? Not Slytherin eh? Are you sure? You could be great you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on your way to greatness, no doubt about that - no? Well, if you're sure - better be GRYFFINDOR!  
  
All those many years ago, he had wanted so much to prove himself, to show the world that he wasn't just a famous name.  
  
That was just an individual feeling, but could Voldemort, the one who had named himself lord, have the same insecurities now?  
  
Not to show he wasn't just a famous name, oh no, but to something else, something that he nearly had in common with Harry, but they both saw it from their own point of view - his muggle parent.  
  
Harry's mother was a witch, muggle born yes, but a witch.  
  
Voldemort's father was a muggle, his own ancestors would have shunned him, even Voldemort was ashamed.  
  
The heir of Slytherin, a halfblood? How could it be?  
  
Harry could understand how Voldemort would want to prove himself as a true ancestor of Salazar Slytherin.  
  
Had he ever regretted his decision to use dark magic? Harry would probably never know, but he knew that Voldemort would never go back on it. He needed to trick him, but how?  
  
'You are the last remaining heir of Salazar Slytherin, and yet there is something about you that doesn't quite fit.'  
  
Voldemort's eyes were following him, maybe he thought that Harry was teasing him, but there was a reason to all of this, and Harry was still in danger here.  
  
'Your father, he was a muggle, which makes you a halfblood. And yet, you belonged to the only Hogwarts house that hates mudbloods,'  
  
Harry said the last word with venom, 'so surely, halfbloods can't be in their good books either can they? And yet, you have all these men under your control and I still have my doubts. How can you be the true heir of Slytherin? No, in fact I don't believe you are worthy of that title at all. Anyway, sorry, I've had my say, I just thought I'd let you know before I ... before I die.'  
  
He pushed his face into what he thought was a sad expression, and bent down to pick up the wand. He paused before he removed the curse from Voldemort.  
  
He had just tried the oldest trick in the book, and he hoped to God that Voldemort had fallen for it, if he hadn't, Harry would be dead in a second.  
  
If he had just infuriated Voldemort too much though, Voldemort could just get up and kill him.  
  
But if it had worked, at least then Harry would have a chance, for he hadn't had time to think up the rest of his plan.  
  
Harry knew, or at least he thought he knew, that Voldemort wouldn't let him die with the upper hand.  
  
'It's alright,' shouted Harry to the death eaters, 'if he didn't kill me, you lot would, I'm only going to free him of the curse.'  
  
He did, and Voldemort stood up before him.  
  
'Harry Potter.' he almost spat the words out. 'You are an ignorant young boy, and you will know not to insult your lord. You will know that I am the true heir of Slytherin, and I will teach you a lesson before you die, that I can do anything, anything.'  
  
He clicked his fingers and the images in the mirrors changed.  
  
Harry saw Hermione, she was once again under the imperius curse, controlled by Lucius Malfoy.  
  
The image chilled Harry to the bone, for in one hand she held a wand, and in the other, a knife.  
  
Harry tried to move forwards, but there was invisible hand, and it stopped him in his tracks.  
  
'You see, I can do anything. I could even kill you in the pouring rain.'  
  
A hand pushed Harry back again, into a mirror. The mirror cracked, and Harry felt a stabbing pain in his back, but it didn't feel too bad.  
  
Ropes then surrounded him, tying him to the mirror. Harry didn't know quite what to do, he hadn't expected any of this.  
  
Voldemort had created a storm, the rain poured down on him, he could hardly see.  
  
He could hear thunder, and a piece of fork lightening split open the sky. Harry knew that his wand was still in his hand, which was a comfort, if only very slight.  
  
Suddenly there was a distraction, not so far away, people seemed to be appearing out of nowhere.  
  
People that Harry almost laughed out loud when he saw them.  
  
Dumbledore, Professors McGonagall and Snape, Alastor Moody, Remus Lupin, Arabella Figg, Hagrid, many more people that Harry knew, or maybe didn't, and last of all ... Sirius Black.  
  
They were set upon by death eaters who just seemed to appear, Harry could hear curses being thrown around between the two groups, but they were not close enough to hit Voldemort or him, they were outnumbered by the death eaters.  
  
Voldemort turned his attention back to Harry.  
  
'Now, about your little word with me earlier. You will not have the last word Harry Potter, so let me tell you something, and you, will, listen.  
  
'Years ago, when Hogwarts school was first made, you know of the four founders. Slytherin, my ancestor, and Gryffindor, yours, were among them. Sometimes, I wonder why Slytherin stayed around there, and now maybe I know it he because he knew he would be avenged, and I will be the one to do it.  
  
Godric Gryffindor was a jealous old man, not content with not having his own way when Slytherin suggested something, he couldn't stand that there was someone else better than him.'  
  
Harry could feel the anger burning inside him as the storm raged on.  
  
Voldemort's malicious comments were having two very different effects on the surrounding groups.  
  
The death eaters and Harry's allies had stopped fighting, and tied to her gravestone, a look of absolute loathing was on Ginny's face.  
  
She could not hear Voldemort's voice, but she could see Malfoy's nodding, smirking head.  
  
Ron just looked terrified, for Hermione still held the knife, and wand.  
  
'The night when I went to kill your mother and father, I knew I was in for an easy fight. Two imbeciles, both too big for their boots, and a baby, yet it had to be done.'  
  
'They were head boy and girl of Hogwarts!'  
  
'Favourites of Dumbledore more like.'  
  
Harry saw Dumbledore try and get near them, but he was blocked, the force field was up again.  
  
'Your father tried to be gallant, but he was no more trouble to kill than an ant under a magnifying glass.  
  
The look on his face when he died, pure terror. He was scared of me, your father.  
  
He was a weak man. Then there was your mother to deal with.  
  
She was in the bedroom protecting you. She was so beautiful, yet so stupid, and she was a mudblood.'  
  
Mudblood, mudblood, mudblood, the word echoed round in Harry's brain, dirty and offensive. The Gryffindor inside him was seething.  
  
'Her hair was so red, and the way it just tumbled over her shoulders, her eyes, so green, they enraptured me.  
  
Her body was so beautiful, even in a nightgown; and her scream, so intoxicating. But she was a dirty little mudblood, a wh0re.'  
  
Saying how beautiful she was hurt Harry more than if he had said how ugly she had been.  
  
He wanted to curse Voldemort, over and over, but he couldn't move his wand into the right position, he would have only cursed the grass.  
  
'You were just a piece of dirt to me, a mere hiccup in my great plan.'  
  
'I was your downfall.'  
  
'You were a stumble in my great path to power, a bum note in my song of victory, and you helped me back to greatness.  
  
So now I have you. Go and see your dirty little mudblood mother, and your big-headed father in heaven, Potter.'  
  
A grin was on Voldemort's face as he raised his wand.  
  
Ron had his eyes closed, Ginny was the complete opposite, eyes wide and screaming.  
  
Voldemort's little speech seemed to have had a big effect on Harry's allies, and they were fighting harder than ever.  
  
Harry was not scared, but he was angry, more angry than he had ever been in his life before.  
  
He seemed to be overcome with anger, as he looked into Voldemort's face, into his eyes, he knew that Voldemort was truly evil, to the core.  
  
Suddenly, all the sound seemed to stop in Harry's head, and he looked up to the sky.  
  
Even though it was still raining, he could still see everything. What happened next, was magic beyond his control.  
  
A great bolt of fork lightening sped down from the sky, in slow motion it seemed, coming ever closer to the ground.  
  
Harry watched as he saw the very tip of the bolt of lightening hit Voldemort's head.  
  
A searing pain burst through his scar, and a white light blinded him. But as the light faded, so did the pain and Harry closed his eyes.  
  
He had used magic, unexplained magic to do so many things in the past when he had been scared, or angry.  
  
It was nothing new to Harry, but as he opened his eyes, he knew the sight that was about to greet him.  
  
The body of Voldemort lay on the ground, and Harry didn't know whether to feel happy or shocked.  
  
Voldemort was gone, but Harry had committed murder ...  
  
Voldemort was dead.  
  
There was stillness, complete silence, which lasted for a minute.  
  
Harry looked at the sky, the storm was gone. He looked at the body of Voldemort. Was he really dead?  
  
He was, Harry knew there was no way he could cheat death anymore.  
  
'Aagh!' The shout of a death eater broke the silence, it was Nott, he seemed to be clutching his arm. 'my arm!' he shouted 'the pain! The pain!'  
  
Then more and more death eaters doubled over in pain, clutching their arms. Harry could hear cries of - it's melting - and he knew that they meant the dark mark on their arms.  
  
Harry was smiling as he watched them all, being overpowered by Harry's allies. Tied up, and having their wands removed.  
  
If only Harry could have moved, he would have longed to help them, but he was still tied to the gravestone, though he had managed to free his right hand.  
  
Through all of this chaos, there was still one death eater who had been forgotten. As his pain subsided he got to his feet, raised his arms in the air and shouted.  
  
'He will be avenged!' Then, indicating to Hermione, he said 'Kill them girl.'  
  
Lucius Malfoy sent Hermione forwards, her wand raised, pointing at Ginny. Ginny was screaming, and wriggling around on her gravestone, tears rolling down her face.  
  
'Hermione! Don't do it please Hermione!' her speech was punctuated by sobs. 'I know you're in there, don't kill me!' Lucius Malfoy was laughing, Ginny started trembling.  
  
'I hate you Malfoy!' Now Ron was shouting. 'Stop her, tell her to stop.'  
  
Harry watched from a distance, horrified.  
  
He raised his wand, and aimed some disarming and stupefying spells at Hermione, but he could not hit her.  
  
Lucius Malfoy was now rolling around on the floor, laughing hysterically.  
  
'You're disgusting!' shouted Ron. 'How would you like your son to see you now eh?'  
  
Hermione raised the wand, Ginny winced and recoiled, but then Harry seemed to notice that her expression had changed, from terrified to what looked like gladness or relief Harry looked on, confused.  
  
'Libertus!' cried Hermione, then she pointed the wand at Ron, 'Libertus!'  
  
Their bonds were broken and they jumped from the tombstones.  
  
Ron proceeded to immediately disarm Lucius Malfoy, and engage in a physical fight with him.  
  
Typical Ron, thought Harry, and clever Hermione.  
  
She had obviously managed to fight off the imperius curse silently, and had even fooled Lucius Malfoy, and Harry!  
  
Harry wondered how she had managed to tell Ginny without words, perhaps she had winked!  
  
Hermione and Ginny seemed to have joined the fight now, all four of them were rolling around on the floor, they probably didn't have a clue as to who was punching who!  
  
Harry laughed, they looked like the teletubbies!  
  
Harry could see Dumbledore rounding up all the adults who had been fighting, they all seemed to be there, Harry was glad.  
  
But then he cast his mind back to earlier that evening, to Seamus, Dean and Neville.  
  
'I'm sorry!' Harry cried up to the sky, 'I'm sorry.'  
  
The stabbing pains in his back became greater, and he thought of his three dead friends, as he collapsed where he was standing.  
  
*  
  
Harry awoke to find himself laying down on the grass, he was still in the graveyard, and he was all alone, bar one person, Dumbledore.  
  
'You should be very proud of yourself tonight Harry.'  
  
'No I shouldn't. I killed a man, and three of my friends died because of me.'  
  
'And how was that your fault?'  
  
'If I hadn't lived all those times, Voldemort wouldn't have been after me, and he wouldn't have made Hermione kill them.'  
  
Harry tried to sit up, but his back hurt.  
  
'Don't move, I have mended the cuts on your back, but I am rusty at medical so you may still be sore.'  
  
'Yes.'  
  
'Now Harry, I want you to know that you were not the cause of any deaths in your dormitory, and neither was Hermione, I have had a talk with her. There are things which Voldemort could do, that you will never even find out about. I'm not saying that killing is good, or right, even if it is Voldemort, but you should know that you have no cause to feel guilty. You may grieve, over the loss of your friends but there is no need to feel guilt.'  
  
Harry lowered his head, he knew that Dumbledore was right, but he couldn't help but feel guilty.  
  
'I really didn't mean to kill Voldemort, even though I know he was evil, I don't know what came over me!'  
  
'Harry, the gifts of nature and the works of man are only good or bad as we make good or bad use of them.  
  
Voldemort made bad use of our world, and this is what has come of him.  
  
He knew as much as you or I about magic you make with strong emotions, he knew what he was doing to you, he knew the risk he was taking.'  
  
'I shouldn't have let him hurt me with words, sticks and stones . . .'  
  
'Whoever came up with the saying - sticks and stone may break my bones but words will never hurt me - was talking out of his or her armpit. Even though I know you know what he said wasn't true, it still hurts doesn't it?'  
  
'It's sad isn't it, getting hurt that much by something that isn't even true.'  
  
It's not sad Harry ...'  
  
Harry interrupted;  
  
'It's life?'  
  
'No, it's not life either, you should never say that. Life is what you make of it, not what people tell you it is, you of all people should know that.  
  
It's just one of those things that hurts in certain situations, and I would be very surprised to think that Voldemort talking about your parents didn't hurt.'  
  
Harry knew that this was the end of the conversation, and that they would be going back to Hogwarts now.  
  
'Thank you Professor. Professor Dumbledore, how are we going to get back?' Dumbledore smiled.  
  
'I had Professor Flitwick charm some items as portkeys, I have one here. It will take us back to the entrance hall. Here, it is this ham. I may eat it upon our return, I do feel rather famished. Take hold after three.'  
  
'OK.'  
  
'One, two ... three!'  
  
Dumbledore and Harry both took hold of the portkey and Harry felt that familiar tugging feeling that meant he was on his way back to Hogwarts.  
  
On arriving back in the entrance hall, Dumbledore turned to Harry.  
  
'It's understandable that you will be upset, I can arrange another place for you to sleep.' Harry nodded, and they entered the entrance hall.  
  
The scene that greeted them was completely unexpected.  
  
Three of the four tables in the great hall was filled up with students, all eating and drinking and laughing, even the teachers were at their table!  
  
They were having a party! As Dumbledore entered the room with Harry behind him, the smiles soon turned to worried looks, and the laughter turned to silence  
  
'I see,' began Dumbledore solemnly 'that in my absence, you have indulged in a party.'  
  
Everyone in the hall was looking scared, how many points would they each lose for their house? Slytherin were sensible for not coming.  
  
'And I also see that Slytherin did not join you.'  
  
Harry could see everyone in the hall visibly gulp.  
  
'Well more fool them! Come on, eat up, don't let the good food go cold. I hope that there's a plate for me!'  
  
A cheer arose in the hall, and soon everyone joined in, even Harry, though he felt a twinge of sadness for the boys in his dormitory.  
  
He saw Ron sitting at the Gryffindor table with Hermione, and sitting next to them was ... Harry stared, it couldn't be!  
  
He ran over to the table.  
  
'Harry,' began Ron, 'I'd like you to meet the new resident ghosts of Gryffindor tower, Neville, Seamus and Dean.'  
  
All six of them burst out laughing, and a whole load of mushed up sausage fell out of Ron's mouth, he popped it back in.  
  
'Eugh.' said Hermione, and they all burst out laughing again.  
  
'So, what's it like being a ghost?' asked Hermione, 'it would be quite an interesting essay to hand into Professor Zoromus.'  
  
Harry heard Ron groan behind him.  
  
'I'm sorry.' said Harry, suddenly serious.  
  
'That's OK,' replied Neville, 'we don't blame you.'  
  
'But Seamus, Dean, what are you going to tell your parents? And Neville, what about your grandmother?' Seamus smiled.  
  
'I dunno what I'll tell me Mam, but she'll be bloody surprised!'  
  
Harry smiled, then he felt a tap on his back, it was Ginny.  
  
'Harry, I think we need to talk.'  
  
Harry followed Ginny out of the main hall, and into a small private room just off it. He wondered what she was going to say, she looked so serious.  
  
She turned to him.  
  
'I can't stay with you any more.'  
  
Harry didn't know whether to pretend that he wanted her to stay, or to show how he really felt. He decided to be honest.  
  
'You know, I will always be your friend.' Ginny smiled 'You're very pretty you know.'  
  
'Oh don't give me all of that ...'  
  
'No really, I mean it! It's just I don't, erm ...'  
  
'Fancy me?'  
  
'Well yeah sorry.' Harry felt bad for Ginny, he remembered how he had felt when he and Cho had broken up. 'Friends?'  
  
'Friends.'  
  
'Hug?'  
  
'Hug.'  
  
Harry put his arms around Ginny. He was relived they were friends again, and that he hadn't had to be the one to break her heart.  
  
She was young, only sixteen, they were both young - God, he was even thinking old already!  
  
They both headed for the hall, just as Dumbledore was starting to make his speech.  
  
'The first thing I will say, is that as you already know, Lord Voldemort is dead.'  
  
The uproar in the hall was deafening. If any of the Slytherins were planning on sleeping, it was wishful thinking!  
  
'And this time, it's final. But tonight, he has committed some evil crimes. He is responsible for three of our Gryffindor's deaths, and even though in a way they are still with us, in another way we must remember that they are not.  
  
This evil man has had a hold on our wizarding world for too long, and tonight we will celebrate our freedom once again.  
  
And I would like to be the first to toast the student who is responsible for it. He is not a murderer,  
  
Voldemort brought his death upon himself, but it never would have happened without Harry Potter.  
  
So I would like you all to raise you glasses to Ron and Ginny Weasley, for sticking to their own side, Hermione Granger, for pure good thinking, and to Harry Potter for our freedom.'  
  
Everyone raised their goblets, not just as a toast to Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny, but also a mark of respect to those who died.  
  
*  
  
Harry tore open a corner of his golden envelope slowly, but Sirius was getting impatient.  
  
'Come on Harry, hurry up! Let's see how many you got.'  
  
Harry opened it up a bit more, when suddenly he heard a voice next to him shouting.  
  
'Twelve NEWTs, I got twelve NEWTs!' It was Hermione.  
  
'You sound disappointed.'  
  
'Oh but I am! I got a low percentage for charms!'  
  
'You got the top mark Hermione, how can that possibly be bad?'  
  
She looked outraged at the fact that Harry didn't quite understand.  
  
'Yeah Hermione,' intervened Ron 'one of your percentages had to be the lowest, it was just charms. Open yours Harry.'  
  
Harry hesitated. What if he hadn't got very many NEWTs? What if Snape had failed him for potions? What if?..  
  
'Mr Sirius Black?' One of the jurors had come to collect him.  
  
'That's me.' replied Sirius.  
  
'You are expected in court, for the final hearing of your name clearing sir.'  
  
Sirius tried to protest.  
  
'But my godson, his results!'  
  
'Now, sir.' the juror was clear, but firm.  
  
As Sirius walked away, Harry knew what the outcome of the case would be, everybody did, but Harry had wished that he had got on with opening the envelope.  
  
Harry, Ron and Hermione entered the courtroom, and sat in the public gallery.  
  
Judge Thierry Vraile was already sitting in his seat above the court, and all the jurors were sitting in place.  
  
'Where's Hedwig?' Ron asked Harry.  
  
'Oh, she flew off after she gave me my envelope, I think she probably went back to Sirius' house.' replied Harry. 'Shh, here comes Sirius.'  
  
Sirius walked into the courtroom, and sat in the chair in the middle of the room.  
  
Harry started to open his golden envelope a bit more.  
  
'Sirius Black, order of Merlin, third degree,'  
  
Began Judge Vraile.  
  
'Seventeen years ago you were accused of a most heinous crime, of killing thirteen people, and helping to kill Lily and James Potter.  
  
Although I must say you didn't help your case by just, well, laughing, you were still proved innocent of this crime four years ago unofficially, and we are here for the final clearing of your name.  
  
Although this case has been postponed for the last few years due to the return of he who must not be named, do you agree with the last statement?'  
  
'Yes sir.'  
  
'And do you agree to testify against Peter Pettigrew, the one you call Wormtail?'  
  
'Yes sir.'  
  
'Then the name of Sirius Black shall be cleared, and 1000 galleons shall be paid to you in compensation for all the years in Azkaban.  
  
Do the jury agree?'  
  
All the people on the right hand side of the room raised their hands and nodded, and the people in the public gallery clapped and cheered.  
  
Harry finally opened his envelope.  
  
'Sirius!'  
  
He shouted above all the noise.  
  
'Sirius! I got eleven NEWTs!'  
  
Sirius smiled, and now even the jury started to clap and cheer.  
  
*  
  
One hundred and fifty miles away, Ms A. Bulstrode waved her eldest daughter away with a hand.  
  
'Oh go away Millicent, I have to feed Thomas. Go to your Dad's house.'  
  
Millicent Bulstrode scowled.  
  
'You hate me now don't you, and Daddy. Ever since Voldemort came along and pushed Daddy away, you've taken no notice of me.'  
  
'You're seventeen.'  
  
'All you want now is Thomas, Thomas, Thomas. Forget about me!'  
  
'Oh Millicent, you'll never understand will you? The difference between Daddy and Voldemort ...'  
  
'Voldemort was only using you, he only wanted a child!'  
  
Ms Bulstrode smiled.  
  
'Then he got what he wanted didn't he. Maybe in certain situations he was less than kind, but that didn't make him a bad father did it?  
  
He loved little Thomas here, our baby, and Tommy will be protected with that love forever, won't you baby!..'  
  
*  
  
One hundred and fifty miles away, Harry Potter felt a terrible burning pain in his scar ... 


	2. Nine years later

Harry Potter walked into the huge quidditch stadium.  
  
His stomach flipped over in excitement; for in two weeks this is where he would be playing seeker in the quidditch world cup final, England versus Italy.  
  
The stadium was empty at the moment, apart from the England quidditch team and their coach.  
  
It was set in Southern France, and in the summer weather, it was very warm!  
  
Nine years had gone past since the demise of Voldemort, and although Harry still had a lightening scar on his forehead, it had not hurt since the last night in which Voldemort had died.  
  
A few weeks after that terrible instance (which Harry still had nightares about), Harry had celebrated his eighteenth birthday, his best birthday ever.  
  
His first summer had gone by with Sirius - now a free man - and it had just flown by!  
  
Sirius had arranged for a huge garden party, inviting alll of Harry's friends.  
  
He had invited the Dursleys as a joke, but unsurprisingly they had declined the offer. (By muggle post of course.)  
  
Now Harry was twenty-six and many more birthdays had gone by since then, but that day would always be his favourite!  
  
Upon leaving Hogwarts, Harry had received a letter from an American called Chuck Levetski, world wide director of quidditch.  
  
After a lot of begging and legal jargon, Harry read the words that would change his life forever.  
  
"Pick a team, any team, and we'll give you a trial!"  
  
There and then, Harry decided that being famous (and also amazingly talented at quidditch) had it's dowsides, but it also had some upsides as well.  
  
This - he decided - was definitely an upside!  
  
After many hours of umming and ahhing, and owls to Ron and Hermione, he had finally decided on his choice.  
  
He delighted in writing back to the director of quidditch.  
  
Dear Mr Levetski,  
  
Thankyou for your letter.  
  
Although I feel guilty of being just offered a place, instead of earning one, I would still like to take you up on your offer.  
  
After much thought and consideration, I have decided on the team I would like to take a trial for: The Chudley Cannons.  
  
I have heard of the recent illness of their seeker, and although I am sad about his departure, I would be happy to take a trial to replace him.  
  
Yours sincerely,  
  
Harry Potter  
  
He could imagine Chuck Levetski's words when he read his letter, and sure enough when he received a letter back, it confirmed his supicions.  
  
To Harry,  
  
May I remind you that you were the youngest seeker in a century at one of the most prestigious schools for magic in our wizarding world.  
  
You only lost one match in all of your seven years, and you could be destined to play for England someday.  
  
And yet you still want to play for the Chudley Cannons?  
  
Losers of the - well - any cup going for quidditch for goodness knows how many years running.  
  
I ask you to please think again!  
  
How about the Ballycastle Bats? They're top of your English league.  
  
I ask you to re-think - Chudley Cannons are at the bottom of your league!  
  
Yours sincerely,  
  
Chuck Levetski.  
  
Harry replied with only one sentence.  
  
To Mr Levetsi,  
  
They're bottom of the league? Then let me help them up again.  
  
Yours sincerely,  
  
Harry Potter.  
  
His request was accepted.  
  
Harry helped the Chudley Cannons back, until they were only ninth in the league!  
  
Then another invitation came, this time to play for England!  
  
The way Harry had felt; he could have conjoured one hundred patronuses!  
  
He remembered Ron and Hermione's reactions to this day.  
  
'Oh Harry that's just wonderful!' she had said, throwing her arms around him. 'Just watch out for the bludgers!'  
  
Ron had looked happy, if not slightly jealous.  
  
'Harry that's wicked! Shame you won't be able to play in the world cup until you're twenty-six. Still, I heard they're planning something spectacular!'  
  
There hadn't been a quidditch world cup for nine years, and Harry could barely wait for this one to start.  
  
England's team this year was especially good, the strongest they had been in years.  
  
The return of Voldemort had halted all quidditch play, and the department of magical games and sports had postponed the cup a further two years.  
  
Rumour had it that something amazing had been planned.  
  
So Potter, Weasley, Ravenscroft, Erskine, Smith, Cliff and Moore had stormed through to the finals, and they would soon face Ellena, LaChiusa, Galeano, Valentino, Ramanzini, Zavarella and Oliveri (the Italian quiditch team).  
  
Suddenly someone interrupted Harry's train of thought.  
  
A burly man of around forty was jogging down the quidditch pitch.  
  
'Harry hi! Where were you?' It was a little out of breath.  
  
'Hi Norton, sorry I'm late.'  
  
Norton Pugh was the coach of the England quidditch team, an ex player himself.  
  
Although his brown hair was thinning, and perhaps he had gone a little to seed, he was still as charming and as persuasive as ever.  
  
It had been him who had convinced the makers of the Thunderclap ZX - the brand new model of rwcing broom - to sponsor the world cup, therefore all of the team would be riding on them.  
  
'Great isn't it!' he said excitedly, indicating the pitch. 'Fits in thousands more spectators then last time.'  
  
Harry looked around him, Norton was right, the stadium was huge, he could barely see the other side!  
  
Someone - with flaming red hair - was zooming towards them on his Thunderclap ZX.  
  
Harry expected the broom to stop about ten feet away, but still the brooms' rider kept going until he was three feet away from Harry and Norton.  
  
Harry jumped back a step, for fear of his own safety.  
  
Fred Wealsey got of the broom, grinning.  
  
'Sorry,' he said, 'couldn't resist. Did that to George the other day. He's as guilty as hell, wishes he hadn't taken on that job in Spain now. Harry, come and practice, here,' he gave Harry his broom, 'come and practice, we need that Tantallurra sequence perfected!'  
  
'Yes, go on ... go on.' Norton nudged Harry forward. Harry stuck out his right hand.  
  
'Up!' he said, and mounted the broom.  
  
The sensation was incredible ... it was like nothing Harry had ever felt before. It was like he was learning to fly all over again! Wow, he thought, as he flew up to where the rest of the team was practicing, this is the best broom I've ever ridden!  
  
It was thousands of times better than a Nimbus, or a Firebolt, but it was still the simplest of designs.  
  
Made from the wood of a giant redwood, it was extremely strong, and could be manoevered through the most complicated of steps.  
  
And the most complicated of steps is what Harry had to do - the Tantallurra Sequence.  
  
It was one of Englands most complicated moves, in actual fact the hardest of them all.  
  
Harry would start off at a great height, and look out for the snitch like he did on most occasions.  
  
When - and if - he spotted the snitch without the other teams seeker noticing then the move would commence.  
  
He would pull out his wand and create a very loud bang (Norton had spent hours looking through Quidditch Through the Ages to find a loophole in the rules. You cannot use a wand against any other player, but nowhere is it mentioned that you cannot make loud sounds with your wand.) which would alert beater Weasley and chaser Moore to come to his side.  
  
As Harry zoomed forward to capture the snitch, Fred Waesley and Ella Moore circled him at the speed of light - so closely that there was actually a chance they could knock him off his broom.  
  
They could protect him but they had to follow his every move.  
  
And Harry had to shout out a series of complicated directions to plot his way to the snitch.  
  
Even more difficult than that, was the fact that Fred and Ella were only permitted to obscur his view a tiny bit.  
  
When Norton had informed them of this task, Fred had repeated a word that should not be written where young children can see it.  
  
The point of all this - was to give Harry ultimate protection and be able to get to the snitch - and the other teams seeker wouldn't be able to get anywhere near him!  
  
All Harry could hope for was that Norton hadn't missed any Quidditch Rules loopholes, and this move they had been practicing for ages wouldn't be disqualified.  
  
Harry thought - if Ron had been the referee, he would have allowed that move!  
  
But Ron wasn't to be the referee, he had tried to become one, but had failed one of the tests.  
  
When he had to take the test to see if he would jinx offending players, he failed on several counts after jinxing some beaters - intentionally overcobbing. (Excessive use of elbows.)  
  
***************************** 


	3. Aaron 1

A/N - we are in another point of view now. Aaron's. We will go back to Harry but until then you got Aaron …  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
Aaron flipped another pancake in the pan, it was his sisters fifth one that day, and he hadn't had any. He was never allowed any.  
  
'Come on Aaron,' she said, with her mouth full, 'I'm waiting, get on with it, and make sure the edges are crispy!'  
  
'Yes Millicent.' He said, in an expressionless voice.  
  
He hated it here; he hated living with his stupid sister, and no one else.  
  
He always had wondered what had happened to his mother, but Millicent never told him. All she said was – 'went and get herself killed, didn't she.' And when Aaron would ask how, or why, all she would say was. 'Well, she hung around with the wrong people, it was her own fault.'  
  
He wondered how someone could speak so cruelly of her own mother, and treat their little brother with such hatred; and yet, not feel guilty.  
  
Aaron knew nothing of his father at all. Millicent had a father, but apparently he was not Aarons, and he also acted like Millicent. He talked as if Aaron wasn't there, loudly and cruelly.  
  
But for all her hatred, Millicent wouldn't let him leave. He had tried many times to escape the house, or even leave Millicent to her face, but he was always stopped by something. It was like everyone wanted him to live in misery.  
  
So he carried on with his life as it had always been, slaving away for Millicent, and being generally miserable. He thought that he's rather live as muggle than face an existence like this one.  
  
Still, soon he would go to school (Hogwarts, he hoped), and he could escape his bleak life.  
  
Hogwarts, he dreamed about that place. He never told Millicent his wishes, or she would arrange for him to go to another school, just to upset him.  
  
He wanted to be in Gryffindor, the house of the brave. He always liked to be brave, and sometimes he did it purposely so that when the sorting hat touched his head, it would go – 'oh yes, this one's been brave, I'll put you in GRYFFINDOR!' – and it was the house of his hero.  
  
Harry Potter, defeater of you-know-who, and international quidditch player, Aaron's hero. Sometimes Aaron would play a game, where he was no longer Aaron Thomas Bulstrode, but Harry James Potter, just about to catch the snitch.  
  
Yes, Aaron would give anything to be like Harry Potter, and anything to stay out of Slytherin, for that had been his sister's house, and as he saw her call for a pancake once again, her mouth still full of the last mouthful she had eaten, he couldn't but help think about how much he wanted to distance himself from her.  
  
Well, at least there was one good thing about these holidays – the quidditch world cup. Millicent might be mean old cow, but that doesn't mean she doesn't like quidditch.  
  
And like quidditch she did – so much so that she had bought a ticket to the world cup for herself, to sit in the top box. And as there was no one who would volunteer to look after Aaron, he was going too, much to Millicent's disgust.  
  
It would only be one hour before Aaron and his sister would set off on the half a mile walk to the nearest portkey, and be transported to the South of France, to a camp specially set up near the stadium.  
  
Aaron flipped the pancake out of the pan and put it on a plate, where he added liberal amounts of golden syrup and butter, before rolling it up, cutting it up and giving it to Millicent, who looked at it with disgust.  
  
'Didn't you hear me halfwit?' she said loudly almost shouting and spraying bits of spit and pancake everywhere. 'I said make sure the edges are crispy! These edges are soggy as … as …' she seemed to be having trouble finding a word, for she wasn't the sharpest tool in the box.  
  
Aaron, however, was very bright. Ever since the day he was born his little mind had been ticking away, always looking for something new to do, and picking it up quickly when confronted with it.  
  
'As something left outside on a rainy day.' She concluded. Aaron almost laughed out loud! As soggy as something left outside on a rainy day – he'd never heard a worse insult in his life!  
  
'Do you want me to take it away?' he asked, for he knew she really wanted it.  
  
'No!' she almost covered the pancake with her arms, as if she was protecting it. Her bulgy eyes almost looked scared.  
  
Eugh, Aaron thought, she's pug-ugly.  
  
After an hour – when Aaron still had had nothing to eat – they picked their all his stuff, and headed out of the front door. Or rather, he was kicked out of the front door; by Millicent's size twelve feet.  
  
'Ouch.' He said, rubbing his backside.  
  
The walk to the portkey was terrible, they had a huge hill to climb up, and although Aaron could have run up it fast if he wanted, his fat and heavy sister ordered him to stay behind with her, and she was crawling up the hill at snails pace.  
  
'Quickly,' he said urgently, 'quickly, or we'll miss them all, they'll go without us!'  
  
They arrived there just in time to see around four witches and wizards crowding around a deflated rugby ball, just about to touch it.  
  
'Wait!' Aaron cried, 'wait for us!'  
  
The witches and wizards turned around in surprise, when they saw Aaron, they smiled.  
  
In the village of Torell-upon-sea, Aaron was a popular little boy, known for his good nature and gentlemanly demeanor, both with muggles, and non- muggles. The old folks looked upon him as their own grandson, and the mothers all wanted their children to know him.  
  
But nobody could know him, and none of the old folks who liked him so much could see him, all because of Millicent.  
  
She watched his every move like a hawk, and she was rude, brash and unkind to the people of Torell-upon-sea. She hardly let Aaron out of the house, and all of the staying inside had turned him a pale, sickly colour.  
  
The people hated Millicent.  
  
'Och, me wee bairn.' Elsie McMannamon was an old Scottish witch who had moved down to the south - because I was afraid I'd freeze me wee tootsies off in the winter - she claimed. Aaron was a particular favourite with her, and she ruffled his hair fondly. 'We were aboot to leave without you m'dear.'  
  
'Well you nearly did it!' said Aaron jokingly. 'Maybe next world cup you'll escape me, eh?' Elsie chuckled.  
  
'I'll …' she began to speak again but Aaron was pulled back by Millicent.  
  
'How many times,' she whispered threateningly in his ear, 'have I warned you not to talk to weirdoes like her.' She sent her knee flying into his back, where none of the surrounding people could see what she was doing.  
  
'Right, well, I think we'd better be off then.' Said a burly looking wizard, looking worriedly at Aaron. The wizard looked so huge that Millicent recoiled slightly away from Aaron. 'After three then, grab the portkey. Have you got it Elsie love? Yes? Then we'll be off. One, two three!'  
  
Aaron put his little finger on the portkey; it was all he could manage with Millicent's fat hand taking up much of the space. He felt as though a huge hook was pulling him one way, and speeding him along like a bullet.  
  
Just as he seemed to be getting used to the ride, and his stomach was settling down, then they came down to earth with a bump.  
  
'Ow!' he cried, he had landed right where Millicent had kneed him. He took great pleasure seeing that she had landed sprawled on her back, trying to get up.  
  
'Well help me then you numbskull!' she shouted at him. He rushed over and used all his body weight to help her up, she was like a great whale stranded on a beach, and it took a lot of strength to lift her.  
  
Aaron was pretty strong, even for and eleven year old who didn't get an awful lot of exercise.  
  
He could see Elsie tottering around in the distance, looking like she was a little drunk, she was meandering around looking a little lost and dazed.  
  
'Onze heures quinze prep Torell-sur-mer.' a womans voice called out in french behind them.  
  
'That's us.' Said the burly man, who had looked at Aaron earlier.  
  
'Oh. Je suis désolée. Vouz parlez français? Ou anglais?' she said, Aaron didn't know what she was going on about.  
  
'We speak English.' Said the burly man, who seemed to understand what she was saying. 'My name's Andy.' So that was his name.  
  
'Um …' the woman seemed unsure of how to say this. 'You 'ave ze Bulsrodes in your company?'  
  
'Yes, that's me.' Millicent stepped forwards, as if trying to say to the woman – I am better than you.  
  
'Um …' she hesitated again. Aaron wasn't surprised, who wouldn't hesitate when faced with Millicent, probably shocked by her supreme ugliness. 'You are ze fourth pitch down, on ze … ze …' she turned to Andy. 'Gauche?'  
  
'Left.' He told her.  
  
'Merci,' she told him, 'you are ze fourth pitch on ze left.' She looked relieved to have got through that ordeal.  
  
'Bloody foreigners!' Millicent said loudly as they were walking away. 'Why can't they employ someone who can speak the language, eh?'  
  
Aaron longed to say – we're in France, what do you expect her to speak? But he knew he'd just get hit for it so he kept quiet.  
  
They got to their camp, where Millicent proceeded to lie down on a sun bed when they got there – not that a tan would improve her looks, Aaron thought – and made Aaron set up the tent.  
  
They had spent so much of their money on getting good seats that their tent was tiny, and it smelled a lot of something that Aaron couldn't quite place.  
  
And so the day passed by, and Millicent kept on sunbathing, and she made Aaron cook the food, and fetch the water. And people passed by, that Millicent said that she worked with; but none of them waved, or said hello. In fact, most of them passed by with their heads bent as if they didn't want to be spotted.  
  
So slowly the sun went down, and Aaron was excited about the coming day, in which he would get to see England play in a final – at last. And he'd see his hero, Harry Potter.  
  
Perhaps if England won they'd come into the top box, and Aaron might even be able to speak to Harry Potter! Even if it were just a hello or something, it would be good enough for Aaron.  
  
'Well, pratface,' Millicent said, Aaron guessed that was him. 'I'm going to bed now, and when you come into the tent, I [I]don't[/I] expect to be disturbed.'  
  
She got off the sun lounger and went into the tent, after only a few minutes Aaron could hear her loud pig-like snoring.  
  
He stood up and went to lie on the sun lounger. He reclined it back until he was lying horizontally, and looked at the sky.  
  
All the stars were out tonight, it was a warm French night, and there was a pleasantly cool breeze blowing around him. Could he stay out here all night? He hoped so. The tent only had a miniscule bit of room, and surely Millicent would be taking up all of it.  
  
But why think about her when you've got the sky? He thought. And why worry about anything when you're going to Hogwarts?  
  
Elsie had told him about Hogwarts, she had told him that she had put his name down, for no one else would.  
  
He had heard about secret passageways and ghosts, moving paintings and eccentric teachers, houses and lessons. And he could even stay there in the holidays!  
  
He had said to Elsie, 'tell me everything – I want to know everything about Hogwarts!'  
  
To which she had replied, 'Och, ma boy, not even I could tell you everything about Hogwarts If ah wanted to. No one knows all it's secrets 'cept the walls themselves.' This had only made Aaron want to get there more.  
  
And even before he got to Hogwarts, the magic would start. Once he had received his letter, Elsie told Aaron that she would take him to a place called Diagon Alley, whether Millicent liked it or not.  
  
Aaron looked forward to that time as well. Soon, he told himself, everything will get better.  
  
A shooting star crossed the sky, and Aaron closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.  
  
*  
  
The next morning, Aaron was shaken awake roughly.  
  
'Up! Get up now! You'll never have time to make my pancakes if you don't hurry up!' Aaron groaned, evidently Millicent was awake.  
  
He opened his eyes, only to find another pair of bulgy blue eyes staring right back at him; he wished he hadn't opened them.  
  
He pulled his legs off the sun lounger, only to have more abuse hurled at him.  
  
'And what do you think you're doing on there anyway? Look at you, disgusting boy (bit rich coming from her – thought Aaron), covered in dew, no shame at all have you.'  
  
He didn't know what she meant, it's not like he was naked or anything. He got out the pan and whipped up a bit of batter.  
  
'Hurry up, I'm hungry here.' Millicent said crossly.  
  
Hungry? He thought. She doesn't know the meaning of the word.  
  
'I could do this a lot faster if I could just borrow your wand …' Millicent laughed derisively.  
  
'Borrow my wand? Don't be so stupid. Just hurry up now, won't you?' when I get my wand, he thought, I'll curse her whether it's legal or not. Such thoughts often made him calm down.  
  
Pancake number one was nearly ready, her favourite pancake, because it always had the crispiest edges. He looked at her, her eyes were closed and she was lying on the sun lounger.  
  
Quickly, he took the finished pancake out of the pan, poured some golden syrup on it and ate it as fast as he could. There, hunger and revenge satisfied all in one.  
  
That was all he could eat though, for as soon as he had finished Millicent's breakfast, the salesmen were apparating at every few feet.  
  
He had been given some money from kind witches and wizards in their village, when he had had the chance to go out and secretly see them, so he had enough to buy a few purchases. Nothing much though, or Millicent would ask questions. He approached the nearest salesman.  
  
'I'm English.' He said, to begin with.  
  
'Yes, I know.' Said the salesman. 'So am I. They sent me here due to some trouble we had with one of our French representatives yesterday. Now, would you like to buy anything?' he held out his tray.  
  
Aaron gaped in amazement! There was English rosettes, Italian rosettes, hats, some things called omnioculars (but they were far too expensive for him), little models of players, sweets, scarves, flags, tiny Thunderclap ZX's, and … he couldn't believe it … [I]Harry Potter scars …[/I]  
  
'Er …' it was so hard to choose, 'I'll have an English rosette, a little Harry Potter figure, and a Harry Potter scar.'  
  
'Right,' said the man, obviously checking his price list, 'that'll be two galleons please. Just put the scar where you want it on your forehead, and it'll stay there.' Aaron handed over the money, he was glad to see he still had some to spare. 'Potter fan are you?'  
  
'Yeah.' Said Aaron, smiling.  
  
'Good for you son.' Replied the salesman. 'You're one of many there, can't go wrong with Potter, he's our best player. Yes … out best player by far …' and on that note, the salesman disapparated.  
  
Suddenly a gong sounded, and multicoloured sparks flew into the sky, indicating a way to the pitch. It was starting!  
  
'Millicent, it's starting!' he cried. Nobody answered, he suspected, just out of rudeness. But he had waited for this day since – forever! And now, he wasn't waiting for anyone. 'I'm going,' he shouted, 'I'm not waiting for you.'  
  
He ran off, following the crowd and the sparks, excitement coursing through his veins. The quidditch world cup final was about to start, and nothing could stop him now. 


	4. And the game begins...

A/N: HARRY POV  
  
*  
  
That was it. This was the moment. This was the moment that Harry had dreamed about for nine years. He clutched his Thuncerclap ZX in his hand tightly.  
  
He wished he could be out there in the crowd, he knew what was coming, and he wished he could have seen it.  
  
There was a tap on his shoulder, and he turned around and saw Fred Weasley standing there, looking sombre.  
  
'It's true then?'  
  
'What?'  
  
'That you're gonna quit if we win.'  
  
Harry looked down at his shoes.  
  
'Yeah.' Then he looked at Fred. 'You're not gonna do anything stupid are you?' Harry looked pleadingly at Fred. Why had he let this information get out, why?'  
  
'Me, do something stupid?' Fred grinned and tried his best to look innocent. He failed miserably. 'Nah, I'm not gonna lose on purpose or anything. It'll be a tragedy the day England loses you mate – but I won't keep you here. I wouldn't bet Norton's gonna be so cool about it though, he seemed pretty cut up about it when he told me.'  
  
Harry sighed. Nortons first and only love was quidditch, and he wanted the best team he could muster.   
  
Harry heard the crowd outside gasp, and squeals of 'how did they do that?' and 'they're so cute!' filled the air.  
  
He prayed that Norton would be mature enough to see Harry's point of view, but Harry could never be sure.  
  
'Harry, Fred, where are you? Game's about to start! Come on – NOW!'   
  
Harry's stomach did one final flip before he and Fred look at each other, nodded, mumbled good luck, and left the room. 


	5. Unicorns

A/N: Sorry about the double spacing but I'm far too lazy to change it. ^__^ Sawwie......  
  
AARON POV  
  
*  
  
Aaron ran up the stairs (there seemed to be thousands of them) all the way up to the top box. All the way he showed his ticked to randomly placed ticket men and women, checking people's tickets.  
  
  
  
'Top box – straight ahead!' they would cry, but Aaron would be gone before you could say "golden snitch".  
  
  
  
When he finally arrived in the top box, he seemed to be one of the first people in there.  
  
  
  
There were four rows of velvet-covered seats, and they looked more comfortable then anything Aaron had been permitted to sit on before. He knew that there were usually two rows, but due to the increased amount of publicity this year, the number had been increased.  
  
  
  
There were two people sitting on the end of the first row. One, a youngish man with flaming red hair, Aaron didn't recognise, but the other he could see was Helena Linnerman, the head of the department of Magical Games and Sports.  
  
  
  
In the fourth row was Bohemia Farquaharson-Smithers, the most recent Minister for magic. She was an Egyptian woman, married to a British man, who had come over to England many years ago.  
  
  
  
Not only was she beautiful, but she was also intelligent, bilingual, and had a deep respect for Albus Dumbledore.   
  
  
  
Aaron had not been alive to see it, but Millicent had told him about Voldemort. She was still afraid to speak his name, but Aaron didn't understand the fear, so he felt none when he said the name. He knew that Voldemort was the most evil wizard in the world, and had been defeated by Harry Potter twice.  
  
  
  
The second time he had risen, Cornelius Fudge – the then Minister for magic – had taken action, to help his public image. When the wizarding public realised how foolish he was, Bohemia had been appointed as Minster for magic, the first woman to take the job.   
  
  
  
She was sitting with her PA, who Aaron knew was Percy Weasley. There were a few other people in the top box, but Aaron didn't know any of them, he suspected that most of them were French or Italian.  
  
  
  
Aaron saw the stands below him fill up with people, and the top box around him filled up too; but still there was no Millicent.  
  
  
  
As soon as he thought this, he heard a great big puffing sound and he looked towards the doorway.  
  
  
  
There stood Millicent, puffing, wheezing and coughing, and looking daggers at Aaron.  
  
  
  
Uh oh, he thought.  
  
  
  
She strode over to him, or rather she waddled unsuccessfully, pointing her finger threateningly at Aaron, her face purpling unpleasantly.  
  
  
  
Stay strong. He thought. Don't let her bully you, just think of Hogwarts, [I]Hogwarts.[/I]  
  
  
  
'How dare you go without me.' She said, their faces inches away. 'If I hadn't promised to look after you, if you didn't have that [I]Andy[/I] looking out for you every second of the day, I'd have you out of here than you could say.' Aaron wiped the spit off his face with his sleeve. 'how dare you cheek me.' She continued, Aaron found it rather funny. 'when we get back, I'll have you cooking for a month, and that'll teach you.'  
  
  
  
'No you won't.' he shouted.  
  
  
  
'Shh,' she whispered urgently, 'stop shouting, the Minister for Magic's here.'  
  
  
  
'Well all the better that she hears me then!' Aaron continued. 'I'm fed up of your bullying, and I'm fed up of doing everything for you! When we get back, I'm taking my things, and I'm leaving, leaving for the whole holiday! I'll go and stay at someone's house, just to get away from YOU!'   
  
  
  
People were staring at him now, but he didn't care, he'd had it. Absolutely had it.  
  
  
  
'I'm going to Hogwarts; Elsie had the heart to put my name down! And I'm going whether you want me to or not.' He sat down defiantly; she didn't try and pull him back up again.  
  
  
  
He knew that she would try and sort him out later, but he would still be defiant then as well. She went and sat down in the third row, looking murderous.   
  
  
  
Aaron sat down quickly, feeling angry still. But then he thought about things – he had Hogwarts, and he was watching the Quidditch world cup final, things weren't so bad.  
  
  
  
And then there was Millicent, sitting back there in the third row. She didn't look angry any more, she looked downcast. Was she really as bad as what he made her to be?  
  
  
  
Yes, he decided. Don't get put off by her puppy dog look, because the minute he would try to help her, she would turn on him. It was all an act.  
  
  
  
'Mother, tell Father I want to sit in the [I]front[/I] row.' Someone was shouting, Aaron turned around. He saw a podgy boy of about his age, standing next to his rather large parents, shouting at them.  
  
  
  
'But Boris darling,' the boys mother began, 'you can't sit in the first row, there's no spaces left.'  
  
  
  
'Ohh,' he whined, 'then tell them to make a space. I hate you, you always take Fathers side.'   
  
  
  
'Yes Boris,' said his Father in a gruff voice, 'you're making a scene, go and sit in the second row.'  
  
  
  
'But …'  
  
  
  
'Now!' Boris shuffled off into the second row, into the seat directly behind Aaron. Aaron could hear Boris's parents talking in animated whispers.  
  
  
  
'Oh Jordan, you shouldn't be so hard on him!' his mother said.  
  
  
  
'You spoil him too much Amelia, he must learn some discipline!' they shuffled into the seats next to Boris. Boris was at that moment poking Aaron in the back of the head – much to Aaron's annoyance – for no apparent reason.  
  
  
  
'Yes? Would you like something?' Aaron turned around to face Boris; today was not the day to mess with him!  
  
  
  
'Move yer 'ead.' Said Boris unkindly, Aaron was reminded somewhat of Millicent.  
  
  
  
'No.' replied Aaron, and promptly turned around. Boris seemed to be shocked at someone actually denying him his own way, and stopped poking Aarons head.   
  
  
  
Suddenly a rushing sound began to fill the whole stadium, it seemed to be coming form the entrance area, at least that was the way that everyone's head was turned, but Aaron couldn't see anything.  
  
  
  
The sound was like when you go to the seaside and you put a shell to your ear, and people say you can hear the sea.  
  
  
  
Suddenly, the lights all started to dim, and people were starting to scream.  
  
  
  
'Who turned out the lights?!'  
  
  
  
'Attack! Attack!'  
  
  
  
'Who from yeh divvy? Somebody, try and light your wand.'  
  
  
  
'I'm trying, I'm trying, it won't light. It's a magical darkness!' suddenly a voice boomed through the stadium.  
  
  
  
'QUIET. SILENCE.'  
  
  
  
There was silence.  
  
  
  
'MY NAME IS ROMILLY WEEKS, REPRESENTATIVE OF THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC, AND THIS … IS THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP!' There was a French translation after she had spoken, and then people started cheering into the blackness. 'ENGLAND VERSUS ITALY, AUGUST 1ST. I WILL BE YOUR COMMENTATOR TODAY. BUT BEFORE THE WORLD CUP EVEN STARTS, WE HAVE A SPECIAL TREAT FOR ALL OF YOU IN THE STADIUM, THAT IS NOT MENTIONED IN YOUR PROGRAMME. IT WILL HAPPEN AFTER THE MASCOTS HAVE COME OUT.'  
  
  
  
'What is it?' cried someone, just behind Aaron; he needed not wonder who it was.   
  
  
  
'IT IS A SECRET.' She said, 'IT HAS BEEN A CLOSELY GUARDED SECRET IN THE MINISRT FOR SEVERAL YEARS, BUT TONIGHT YOU WILL FIND OUT WHAT IT IS.' He heard Boris tut behind him. 'SO NOW WE MUST PROCEED, AND FIRST OF ALL I PRESENT TO YOU – THE ENGLISH TEAM MASCOTS!!!'  
  
  
  
Suddenly all the lights in the stadium went back up, and Aaron could see the pitch clearly again, and what he saw made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.  
  
  
  
Unicorns. Hundreds of them, babies and adults, were galloping across the pitch.  
  
  
  
'It's impossible!' shouted someone.  
  
  
  
'It's a fake!' yelled someone else.  
  
  
  
Aaron believed that it could possibly have been either of these, but he didn't think that it was. Maybe this was why things had taken so long.  
  
  
  
They filled Aaron with a feeling of ultimate peace, they were so [I]beautiful[/I] and so amazingly agile! Look at the way they just galloped down the pitch, gliding and effortless. Nobody could hate them, absolutely nobody.  
  
  
  
Eugh! He shook himself, how could he be thinking such sentimental thoughts! Still – he thought – they are amazing.  
  
  
  
He could hear shouts all over the stadium, the most common one being – they're so cute! – probably from girls.  
  
  
  
Suddenly all at once, Aaron felt proud to be English, they had unicorns as their mascots, how could Italy top this one?!  
  
  
  
Then Aaron saw the unicorns moving, into some kind of formation. They were making the letters; UK. How did they make the unicorns do this?  
  
  
  
Aaron didn't know a lot about unicorns. If – at his previous muggle comprehensive school – he had asked what a unicorn did, and where it was native to, he would have been banged up in solitary confinement for at least a week.  
  
  
  
But he could hear from the murmurs around him that what they had done must be something really amazing. Soon, the unicorns went to the side of the pitch.  
  
  
  
'AAAAAAAAAAND NOW,' cried Romilly Weeks, 'THE ITALIAN TEAM MASCOTS!'  
  
  
  
Onto the pitch slithered four huge serpentine creatures, Aaron had never seen or heard of anything like it in his life.  
  
  
  
In their own way they were graceful, and absolutely astounding to watch. They silenced the crowd, but not in the same way that the unicorns had.  
  
  
  
Soon, they too retreated into the shadows on the side of the stadium, but on the other side to the unicorns. Country mascots had some of the worst reputations for provoking the other team.  
  
  
  
'AND NOW,' shouted Romilly Weeks again, 'MAY I INTRODUCE OUT REFEREE, MONSIEUR JULIEN MONTAGUE!  
  
  
  
A man on a broomstick zoomed into the stadium, to much applause from the crowd. But some other people on broomsticks were following him into the middle of the pitch, gliding behind him in the air on very odd-looking broomsticks.   
  
  
  
Suddenly, some music started in the background and the people on broomsticks – who were all women, Aaron had noticed - started to fly around.  
  
  
  
They started to do leaps and twirls through the air, flying dangerously high, and dangerously low.  
  
  
  
Then suddenly, one of the women stopped her broomstick fifty feet in the air and mounted it with her feet.   
  
  
  
Aaron gasped, surely if she fell off now she would die! He looked down, there was no safety net! Then the woman jumped into the air above the broomstick, flipped neatly in the air, and landed daintily back on the broomstick, smiling as though what she had just done was part of everyday life.  
  
  
  
The crowd gasped as one, and clapped enthusiastically. The display continued, each movement becoming more and more life threateningly amazing, until Aaron could barely look. Then, all too soon, the display was over, and Romilly Weeks had started to speak – or rather shout – again.  
  
  
  
'FIRST,' she shouted, 'I GIVE YOU … THE ITALIAN QUIDDITCH TEAM!!!' 


	6. Aaaaaaaand ... POTTER!

A/N: HARRY POV  
  
*  
  
Harry could hear the Italians being introduced.  
  
  
  
'ELLENA!' one figure in green, white and red vertical striped robes flew onto the pitch, with loud cheers coming from the Italian side of the stadium. 'LACHIUSA, GALEANO, RAMANZINI, ZAVARELLA, OLIVERI … AAAAAAAAND, VALENTINO!'  
  
  
  
There were huge cheers for the team after she announced Valentino's name. The Italian team did one lap of the pitch each and then the crowd fell silent.  
  
  
  
'I GIVE YOU, THE ENGLISH QUIDDITCH TEAM! WEASLEY!'  
  
  
  
'Good luck Fred.' Harry said to him, as Fred mounted his broom and left the waiting place for their team. He saw Fred in his white robes with a red cross, go flying off into the distance.  
  
  
  
'RAVENSCROFT, MOORE, CLIFF, ERSKINE, SMITH …' Harry gulped, he grinned, he had dreamt of this happening to him when he had only been in his fourth year at Hogwarts, and now it was real. 'AAAAAAAAAND …' there was a huge pause, get on with it! Thought Harry. 'POTTER!'  
  
  
  
Harry mounted his broom, barely noticing that the loudest cheer of all was for him. He headed for the top box, where he knew his friend Ron would be sitting. As a representative for the department of games and sports, Ron now had a right to sit in the top box.  
  
  
  
As Harry passed the box on his Thunderclap ZX, he saw Ron, and grinned to him. Ron mouthed – break a leg! Harry sincerely hoped not.  
  
  
  
But further down in the top box, he saw a young boy sitting in the front row, looking all alone, even though there were people either side of him.  
  
  
  
The boy looked strangely familiar to Harry, as if he had been in a dream, or even a memory. But Harry could think of nothing, and he continued on his lap around the pitch.  
  
  
  
'AND IT LOOKS LIKE REFEREE JULIEN MONTAGUE IS ABOUT TO BLOW THE WHISTLE TO START THE GAME, YES, HERE WE GO …'  
  
  
  
The whistle blew, Harry saw the quaffle being thrown into the air, and quickly caught by Moore. 'Yes!' he whispered to himself, 'we're off to a good start!'  
  
  
  
He began searching around for the snitch, and could see Italian seeker Valentino doing exactly the same on the other side of the pitch.  
  
  
  
'ERSKINE! RAVENSCROFT! BACK TO MOORE AGAIN!' Good, Harry thought, so the ball was still in England possession. Suddenly he swerved violently, there was a bludger coming for him, hit by Italian beater Ellena.  
  
  
  
'OOH, AND POTTER JUST DODGES A BLUDGER, AND THE POSSESSION OF THE QUAFFLE HAS GONE TO ITALY! ZAVARELLA! LACHIUSA! ZAVARELLA! AND … ZAVARELLA SCORES!'  
  
  
  
There were cheers from the Italian side of the stands, but groans from the English. They were going down in quidditch – [I]again …[/I]  
  
  
  
Harry soared high above the game, which the English team had the quaffle again. There was no sign of the snitch, and Valentino had not seen anything either.  
  
  
  
Just then he heard something from the box. 'ERSKINE SCORES, AND IT IS 10 POINTS EACH AT THE MOMENT! BACK IN PLAY – RAVENSCROFT HAS THE QUAFFLE, SHE'S RACING DOWN THE PITCH – IT LOOKS LIKE SHE'S GOING TO SCORE! SHE'S – OH NO, YOU CAN'T ALLOW THAT REFEREE!'  
  
  
  
Italian beater Ramanzini had seen Angel Ravenscroft about to score, and had hit her head with his club, in the pretence he had thought it was a bludger, Harry had seen the whole foul.  
  
  
  
Angel was swaying ominously on her broom, and Harry flew down to steady her, if she fell they had no substitute, and she was his friend. After a while she stopped swaying and thanked Harry. Harry stopped to hear the referee's verdict.  
  
  
  
The referee nodded to Galeano, who had caught the quaffle after Angel had dropped it, to indicate continue play.  
  
  
  
'NO WAY!' shouted Harry vehemently. Romilly Weeks was obviously thinking along the same lines as him, because then she started shouting.  
  
  
  
'WHAT ARE YOU REFEREE? BLIND? DIDN'T YOU SEE THAT, IT WAS AN OBVIOUS FOUL! I KNEW WE SHOULDN'T HAVE EMPLOYED A FRENCHMAN! ANYONE WITH HALF A BRAIN CELL COULD HAVE SEEN …' she stopped abruptly 'NOW … PUT THE WAND DOWN, THERE'S A GOOD BOT, YOU DON'T WANT TO DO THAT, PUT THAT WAND DOWN I SAID …'  
  
  
  
Everyone stopped shouting in the stands. Why had she stopped talking? They wanted to hear what she had to say! Although as a commentator she shouldn't really take sides, but it kind of added excitement to everything!   
  
  
  
Harry had just been thinking this though himself, but it soon went out of his head, when he heard a [I]very[/I] familiar voice continue the commentary.  
  
  
  
'APOLOGIES TO ALL OUT THERE, IF WE COULD JUST CONTINUE THE GAME PLEASE? OK THEN? HERE WE GO …' 


	7. The man with red hair

A/N: AARON POV  
  
*  
  
The commentator was shouting, Aaron didn't know if they were allowed to be so biased!  
  
  
  
'WHAT ARE YOU REFEREE? BLIND? DIDN'T YOU SEE THAT, IT WAS AN OBVIOUS FOUL! I KNEW WE SHOULDN'T HAVE EMPLOYED A FRENCHMAN! ANYONE WITH HALF A BRAIN CELL COULD HAVE SEEN …'   
  
  
  
[I]"I knew we shouldn't have employed a Frenchman?"[/I] That was a bit offensive to the French wasn't it?! Wasn't anybody going to do something about it?   
  
  
  
It turned out that somebody was. A young boy sitting only a few seats away from Aaron heard that sentence, and looked absolutely outraged. He got out of his chair and pointed his wand at Romilly Weeks.  
  
  
  
'Nevair, eensult, my country.' He said rolling his r's.   
  
  
  
'NOW … PUT THE WAND DOWN, THERE'S A GOOD BOY, YOU DON'T WANT TO DO THAT, PUT THAT WAND DOWN I SAID …'   
  
  
  
'Stupefy!'  
  
  
  
Aaron gasped in amazement, and then laughed. He'd knocked her out! He'd only gone and knocked the commentator out! The French boys Father got out of his seat and took the boy back, whispering what sort of things he'd do to him once they got home and away from the Minister for Magic.  
  
  
  
I wonder – thought Aaron as he reclined back in his chair – whether all wizarding families are this mad?  
  
  
  
The man with the red hair – who by now Aaron could see was very tall – looked down at his senior who was lying stupefied on the floor with bewilderment.  
  
  
  
'Best leave her there.' Called Bohemia from the fourth row. 'I think she got caught up in the heat of it all.'  
  
  
  
'R – right.' Stammered the red head, who seemed nervous at being addressed by the Minster for Magic.  
  
  
  
'It's Ron isn't it?' She said, 'Ronald Weasley.' Ron nodded. 'So Ron, do you know anything about quidditch.'   
  
  
  
'Oh yes!' said Ron, 'I know nearly [I]everything,[/I] I specialise in the department.'  
  
  
  
Bohemia looked relieved. 'Well then Ron, get on with it then.'  
  
  
  
'Get on with what, minister?'  
  
  
  
'The commentary boy, the commentary!'  
  
  
  
Ron looked taken aback, but pointed his wand at his throat all the same, and muttered 'Sonorus.'  
  
  
  
'APOLOGIES TO ALL OUT THERE, IF WE COULD JUST CONTINUE THE GAME PLEASE? OK THEN? HERE WE GO …' he said, with a huge grin on his face.  
  
  
  
Aaron looked out to the pitch; the game was about to start again!  
  
  
  
'AND TO START PLAY MOORE HAS THE QUAFFLE AGAIN, SHE'S KEEPING IT FOR THE MOMENT, NO, IT'S ERSKINE, RAVENSCROFT, ERSKINE, MOORE … OOH, BAD PASS BY MOORE, AND IT'S GONE OVER TO GALEANO. BUT NO, THE ENGLISH PLAYERS ARE – YES; IT'S A HAWKSHEAD ATTACKING FORMATION. AND MOORE'S GOT THAT QUAFFLE BACK, SHE'S NOT GOING TO FORGIVE GALEANO FOR THAT ONE …'  
  
  
  
Aaron could see the English chaser heading for the hoops, getting closer – until she threw the ball so hard at one of the hoops that the Italian keeper Oliveri didn't even try and stop it, for fear of hid own life.  
  
  
  
'TWENTY TEN TO ENGLAND!'  
  
  
  
Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye Aaron saw someone burst into the top box, panting and out of breath.  
  
  
  
'Stop!' it was a man of around forty-something, with thinning sort of hair, and a desperate look on his face. 'Stop!' he breathed, 'you must … stop … the … game!'  
  
Bohemia Farquaharson-Smithers got up from her seat, stepped over the unconscious body of Romilly Weeks, and went and addressed the man, whilst the commentary of the game continued. Aaron listened in interest.  
  
  
  
'What, may I ask, is the purpose of this?'  
  
  
  
'Minister, your, err … greatness, I beg of you, you must stop the game!'   
  
  
  
'Merlin's beard Norton, England is in the lead, why on earth would you need to stop the game?'  
  
  
  
Norton? Who was he? Aaron hadn't heard of him before, but he wanted to stop the game, that could never happen! Could it?  
  
  
  
'It's Harry Potter Minister.' Aaron listened intently; he hardly noticed that Gabriel Smith had just done an amazing Starfish and Stick move, preventing LaChiusa from scoring. 'he's in danger, we need to take him off the pitch!'  
  
  
  
Take Harry potter off the pitch! That would be suicidal for England chances of winning.  
  
  
  
'Norton, if we take Harry Potter off the pitch, you can kiss goodbye to your quidditch cup. He'd better be in serious trouble, although I can't see any plausible way that could happen. Voldemort's dead,' Norton winced, 'and all the death eaters have been taken care of. How exactly is he in danger?' she gave Norton a withering look.  
  
  
  
'A GREAT PORSKOFF PLAY FROM THE ENGLISH CHASERS THERE! FOLLOWED BY A BRILLIANT DOPPLEBEATER DEFENCE FROM CLIFF AND WEASLEY!'  
  
  
  
'He's … he's … I can't say.' Said Norton pathetically.  
  
  
  
'Well then.' Said Bohemia, 'if you can't tell me, then he's not going to come off the pitch. I want to see England win this cup just as much as you, you know!'   
  
  
  
'But,' protested Norton, 'he [I]must[/I] come off, he [I]has[/I] to stop playing!'  
  
  
  
The Minister for magic looked unconvinced. 'I can see no immediate danger here, and if you won't tell me what it is, then I'm just have to going to keep him on.'   
  
  
  
But then Aaron looked away from them, because Ron had just started commentating in such an animated way that he could tell something big was happening.  
  
  
  
'AND I CAN CONFIRM TO YOU ALL, THAT HARRY POTTER [I]HAS SEEN THE SNITCH![/I] HE'S.'  
  
Suddenly Ron was cut short; there was a huge bang from the pitch. 'AND POTTER, WEASLEY, AND MOORE ARE ATTEMPTING THE TANTALLURRA SEQUENCE, AN EXREMELY HARD WHICH SHOULD RESULT IN A SUCCESSFUL CAPTURE OF THE SNITCH.'  
  
  
  
Aaron stood up; he didn't want to miss a thing!  
  
  
  
'Oi you, sit down.' It was Boris again, Aaron didn't even turn around.  
  
  
  
Harry, Fred Weasley and Ella Moore were moving so fast that all Aaron could see was a blur. But Valentino, who seemed determined to stop them, was soon catching them up.   
  
  
  
'They're going to crash!' someone cried!  
  
  
  
Aaron looked, it certainly seemed that way. Weasley and Moore were circling him with such speed that it looked almost impossible. But Valentino was heading straight for them on the left.  
  
  
  
They were getting closer, (why didn't Valentino move out of the way?) even closer (they were going to crash!) until finally – CRASH!  
  
  
  
Valentino went zooming straight into them, and Aaron saw three players scatter, and hit the ground below. The whole crowd groaned in unison, that was a very nasty accident.  
  
  
  
But while the mediwizards went to tend to the fallen players, Harry Potter flew on; and although he might not have been quite flying in a straight line, you could see his arm extend and his fist close around something small and golden.  
  
  
  
'POTTER CATCHES THE SNITCH!' Shouted Ron, 'ENGLAND WIN THE WORLD CUP 170 TO 10!'   
  
  
  
'NO!' shouted Norton, though Aaron couldn't understand why, 'NO!' 


	8. The article

A/N: HARRY POV  
  
*  
  
Potter Quits Quidditch!  
  
  
  
Harry Potter, the Daily Prophet can exclusively reveal, has left the English Quidditch team, to follow up the career of a schoolteacher.   
  
  
  
In fact, Harry Potter will be giving up professional Quidditch altogether, it seems, despite many attempts to keep him where he is.  
  
  
  
Potter, who is most widely acclaimed for his defeat of the dark lord, once almost two decades ago, when he was only a baby; and another time, eleven years ago, which showed the final downfall of he-who-must-not-be-named and the capture of all his Death Eaters; also has a remarkable talent for quidditch.  
  
  
  
It would seem that this talent runs in the family, as Harry's father, James Potter, once played chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  
  
  
  
Harry though has more of a natural talent as seeker, despite being short sighted for the majority of his life, and was immediately snapped up to play for the Chudley Cannons [at his request, it would emerge] as soon as he left Hogwarts, where he had been playing seeker for his whole seven years there.  
  
  
  
A move to the English team was inevitable, and when it finally happened, we thought we had the cup hooked for at least as many years as he stayed on the team.  
  
  
  
He was easily the best player, supported by millions, but now he rejects his own country.  
  
  
  
It is due to his own selfishness that England will no longer have any chances with the world cup, but was it inevitable that fame would get to his head?  
  
  
  
Ever since the day he was born, people have treated like a hero. It was rumoured that he was never really talented enough to go onto the Gryffindor team as a first year, but plagued headmaster Albus Dumbledore with emotional blackmail.  
  
  
  
A Mr Chuck Levetski also reveals that he gave Harry Potter the chance to choose "whatever team he wanted to play for" when offering him Quidditch trials. When Harry surprisingly chose the Chudley Cannons and was asked the reason why, he reputedly said – "because they're rubbish, and with me they could get to the top of the league."  
  
  
  
Then, just when he feels like it, when a nation of Quidditch supporters is depending on him, he decides that he wants to finish with Quidditch altogether. And why? To become a flying teacher at Hogwarts School, still run by the ancient and decrepit old man, Albus Dumbledore, who has long been considered to be mad.  
  
  
  
Some, who fight for his defence claim: 'the quidditch world cup is a once in a lifetime experience, and everybody knows that it was Harry who won it for us. How can you all forget the defeat of You-Know-Who all those years ago? You slimeballs. He has gone to teach children the fine art of flying, a much more resourceful way to spend your time.'  
  
  
  
The truth is - and although it may hurt people to hear this, because it is the truth – is that if Harry Potter hadn't killed You-Know-Who, then someone else would have. It's a true fact.  
  
  
  
So I say – good riddance to Harry Potter, the man who became too big for his boots, it's about time.  
  
  
  
Written by Floella Skeeter.  
  
  
  
'How dare she!' Ron cried in indignation. 'Takes after her Mother, that one …'  
  
  
  
'Don't, Ron.' Said Harry, looking at him. 'There's no point, I'm just going to have to ignore it, like I ignore all the other stuff she writes.'   
  
  
  
'I don't know how you can put up with all of this. If it was me, I'd go straight down to her office and …'  
  
  
  
Harry interrupted him. 'That wouldn't help. At least I know the people who matter won't take any notice.'  
  
  
  
He picked up the copy of the Daily Prophet from the desk, and folded it in half. He sighed. 'I don't know, why can't these people just quit it? Are they going to keep going until I snap?'  
  
  
  
Ron shrugged his shoulders.  
  
  
  
'Anyway, I'd better be back off to Hogwarts. I need a word with Hermione about teacher timetables.'  
  
  
  
'Professor Potter, never thought I'd hear anyone say that! Who'd have thought you had the brains?' he ducked, as Harry aimed a friendly cuff at his head.  
  
  
  
'Well I'm not really a professor, I'm more of an instructor, but I get called Sir.'  
  
  
  
'Sir Harry, sounds posh.'  
  
  
  
'No, just Sir. But to be honest, it doesn't sound like a title I could get used to. Maybe they could just call me Harry.'   
  
  
  
Ron grinned. 'Don't act so modest! We all know you want to be a professor like Hermione! Anyway, sorry to keep you away form your teacher's timetable. See ya.'  
  
  
  
Harry took the floo powder from the desk in Ron's office, and threw it in the fire. He shouted a quick 'bye' before shouting, 'Hosmeade!' and stepping into the fire.   
  
  
  
Harry didn't know whether it was his imagination or not, as he was zoomed through the chimneys, his mouth slowly filling with soot.  
  
  
  
It seemed much harder to travel by floo powder these days, for although he was still skinny for his ago, he had grown since he was 14, surprisingly!  
  
  
  
Soon though, he stopped, and landed on all fours, regaining his feet at once, and putting his glasses back on.  
  
  
  
He saw that he was in the fireplace at honeydukes, the shop seemed only half-full at the time; which was lucky because when he climbed out he was covered in soot, and immediately a black cloud of soot surrounded him.  
  
  
  
He quickly vacated the shop because the shop owner was looking daggers at him. 'Covering my shop in soot, I don't know … most unhygienic …'  
  
  
  
When he was outside, and could breathe the fresh air again, he started on the walk back to Hogwarts.  
  
  
  
When he arrived back at Hogwarts, he went straight up to Hermione's classroom, to see if she was there. It was before term time – only just – and Harry and Hermione had arranged a meeting.  
  
  
  
Hermione was the Defence against the Dark Arts Professor, and apparently her position wasn't jinxed, because she had got through her first year successfully, and was about to embark on the second.  
  
  
  
Harry went to her office. It was quite different. Before in his life, he had seen things in this office like Magical Creatures, Pictures of Gilderoy Lockhart, Dark Detectors, and even a suitcase containing an Auror held hostage.   
  
  
  
But Hermione was not in her office; it was dumbledore Harry saw when he entered the room. Albus Dumbledore – though very old – was still running Hogwarts, although Professor M. McGonagall was playing in increasingly important role in the running of it.   
  
  
  
As soon as Harry entered the room, dumbledore began to speak to him.  
  
  
  
'Harry, you must go.' Dumbledore said worriedly.  
  
  
  
'What's happened?' asked Harry.  
  
  
  
'It's Hermione, she's gone into labour.'   
  
  
  
'W-why didn't anyone tell me?' Harry asked.  
  
  
  
Dumbledore sighed. 'Because you weren't here Harry. Listen, there's something you should know. She was in the ordinary muggle hospital, but then some – er – [I]complications[/I] set in, and she was transferred to St Mungos.'  
  
  
  
'Complications!' shouted Harry, 'what do you mean, complications? She's OK, isn't she?'  
  
  
  
'You'd better go and see her.' Said Dumbledore.  
  
  
  
Quickly, he handed Harry some floo powder, and Harry threw it into the fire, before stepping in.   
  
  
  
'I'll be coming along later!' said Dumbledore. Three journeys in one day – Harry thought – I must be mad to do this.  
  
  
  
When he arrived at St Mungos, all he could see was people rushing around everywhere. He seemed to have arrived in some sort of waiting room, he couldn't see Hermione anywhere.  
  
  
  
'Excuse me,' he said, rushing up to the desk, pushing through crowds of people to get there, 'Excuse me, but have you got a Miss Hermione Granger staying here?'  
  
  
  
The receptionist looked gave him a withering look, and glanced him up and down. Amazingly, she didn't seem to recognise him. 'Ah'm sorry duck.' She said in a broad Northern accent, 'you're just gonna 'ave ter wait like all the others.'   
  
  
  
Harry repeated the question, this time more forcefully.  
  
  
  
'Alraht duckie, don't bust a gut, now let me see … Hermione Granger … yes, maternity ward one. I'll have an assistant take you there. Are you the father?'  
  
  
  
'No.'  
  
  
  
'Oh, do you know when the father will be here?'  
  
  
  
Harry looked down at his shoes. 'He won't be, he's dead.'  
  
  
  
The assistant who had come to take Harry to maternity ward one arrived just at that moment, which was lucky as the receptionist looked slightly dumbfounded at Harry's last sentence.  
  
  
  
'Ward one?' asked the assistant.  
  
  
  
'Yes that's right.' Said Harry, 'I'm here to see Hermione Granger.'  
  
  
  
The assistant sighed. 'Oh, you won't get much out of that one tonight, fast asleep she is, terrible birth, terrible …'  
  
  
  
'She'll be fine though?'  
  
  
  
'Oh yes, in time.' Reassured the assistant.   
  
  
  
He took Harry to a door with 'Ward one, room four' on the door, and let Harry in, motioning for him to be quiet, but there was no need, Hermione was awake.  
  
  
  
Her face brightened at the sight of him. 'Harry! Thought you might come. I've got those teacher timetables for you if you could just reach over to the table and get them I'll explain them to you! I …'  
  
  
  
'Hermione, stop!' said Harry. 'Haven't you heard of a comma?'  
  
  
  
'Sorry.' She said.  
  
  
  
'I haven't come here for the teacher timetables, I came to see you! How are you feeling?'  
  
  
  
'OK. Just tired. You would have thought they could have thought of a way to make it painless couldn't you?! She was a breech birth, I don't know what they did in the end, but it helped, a lot. I'm feeling better now though. All the mediwizards are expecting me to sleep though, goodness knows why, why would I want to do something so boring as sleeping?!'  
  
  
  
Harry looked at the baby, who was sleeping in a cradle by the bed. 'You said she. It's a girl then?'  
  
  
  
'Yes.' Hermione looked sad for a second. 'It's just a shame that Viktor couldn't be here to see her though.' But then she brightened. 'I think I might call her Daisy, what do you think?'  
  
  
  
Harry smiled. 'It's a pretty name. I like it.'  
  
  
  
They talked for a while, but then Hermione got so sleepy that she fell asleep in the middle of one of her sentences, so Harry took the chance to return to Hogwarts.  
  
  
  
He looked at his teacher timetable, to see who he would be teaching.   
  
  
  
He had individual sessions with the quidditch team captain for each house, to advise them on strategies, and one after school session a week with the teams, the team captain would arrange the rest of their practices, and Harry only had to be present for one a week.  
  
  
  
As for general lessons, they only applied to first years, which was a shame – Harry thought – he would have loved to have taught advanced flying.  
  
  
  
He could make workshops whenever he wanted to, for quidditch or otherwise, for any age (or standard) that he requested.  
  
  
  
Yes. Harry thought. This year's gonna be great! 


	9. In the shadow of Hogwarts

A/N: AARON POV  
  
*  
  
The weeks that had led up to his departure had been painful. Aaron thought, as he walked onto platform 9 and ¾.  
  
  
  
Millicent had tried to stop him from going, many times, but now he had Elsie and Andy on his side, he had manage to evade her.  
  
  
  
Elsie had taken him on a trip to Diagon Alley, which – aside from the Quidditch world cup – had been the highlight of his summer!  
  
  
  
He had never seen so many people like him, all in one place, and so many shops with magical things in them he had never heard of before.  
  
  
  
He had borrowed the little money kind people had leant him (and the amount that Andy had managed to get Millicent to give him) and with that, he bought all of his school items, a black cat he called Hebe, and his wand.  
  
  
  
He remembered getting his wand, because it been such a strange experience that Elsie had rushed him out of the shop straight after they found the right wand, warning him about mad old men.  
  
  
  
They had walked into Ollivanders (makers of fine wands since 382 BC), to see a feeble old man in a chair sitting in the corner, while a young man greeted them.  
  
  
  
The old man made a sort of grunting sound, that made Aaron jump, but the old man seemed to be in some kind of stupor in the armchair.  
  
  
  
'Oh, ignore my Uncle.' Said the young man, 'he'll wake up when he's ready. My name's Mr Ollivander …' he paused, 'junior.' He added with some distaste. 'Would this be your first wand?' he asked.  
  
  
  
'Yes.' said Aaron, quite nervously. 'What do I need to do?'   
  
  
  
'Well, first you hold out your wand hand.' Aaron looked perplexed. 'The hand you write with.' Prompted Mr Ollivander Jr.  
  
  
  
Aaron held out his left hand. 'Aah, you're left handed I see.' Said Mr Ollivander, 'they're usually more tricky customers. Righty ho, let's try this one. Cedar, 9 ½ inches, unicorn tail hair.'   
  
  
  
Aaron took it in his hand and clenched his fist around it.  
  
  
  
Mr Ollivander leapt forward. 'Careful, careful! Treat the wand with [I]respect,[/I] don't squeeze the wand too hard!'  
  
  
  
Aaron loosened his grip on the wand, but it still didn't do anything.  
  
  
  
Mr Ollivander shook his head and snatched the wand from Aaron. 'No, no, no, that's not it. Here try this one, oak, 6 inches, also unicorn hair.'  
  
  
  
Aaron put the wand in his hand, still nothing.  
  
  
  
Mr Ollivander pulled more and more boxes off the shelf, but none of them seemed to work. Aaron was just beginning to wonder whether he really [I]was[/I] magic.  
  
  
  
Suddenly he heard another grunting noise coming from the corner, he turned around and saw that My Ollivander Sr was stirring.  
  
  
  
'Boy.' Said Ollivander Sr, 'Boy! Adjust my seat!'  
  
  
  
'Uncle,' hissed Ollivander Jr, 'we've got customers …'   
  
  
  
'Customers? Customers? Show me to them! I will get them a wand!' Snorted Ollivander Sr.  
  
  
  
Ollivander Jr twirled his finger round his temple. 'Sorry, he's a little … er … no matter, let's try something else.'  
  
  
  
Ollivander Sr suddenly shouted from his chair. 'Give him the Japanese Cherry! The Japanese Cherry!'  
  
  
  
'But uncle,' whispered Ollivander, 'we can't, not the Japanese Cherry …'  
  
  
  
'I insist.' Said Ollivander Sr. Ollivander Jr took a wand out of a box, right at the back of the shop, in the darkest corner, and handed it to Aaron, Aaron took it in his hand.  
  
  
  
Immediately he felt an amazing sensation going up his left arm. It felt warm; it felt like power, he could do anything! Immediately he waved it a little, and a fountain of green sparks filled the air.  
  
  
  
'That's powerful!' exclaimed Elsie.  
  
  
  
'It's, er …' Ollivander Jr seemed unsure. 'A build up of magic, you know, so it's all let off in one go. But of course, he can't take that wand.'   
  
  
  
'Why ever not?' asked Ollivander Sr. 'it's been sitting there for years, it's about time that we sold it.'  
  
  
  
With a resigned look, Ollivander Jr packages up the wand and handed it to Aaron. 'That'll be seven galleons please.' Aaron remembered handing over the money.   
  
  
  
A burst of steam came out of the Hogwarts Express, and it whistled, signalling its departure.  
  
  
  
Aaron hurried to get on the train, but his trunk was too heavy and he was too small. He wasn't going to make it – he was going to miss the Hogwarts Express!  
  
  
  
Suddenly a girl came up to him, she was only a little taller than him. She had fluffy blonde hair and icy blue eyes, but there was a warmth in them.  
  
  
  
'Need any help?' she asked him.  
  
  
  
Aaron nodded and together they hauled his suitcase into the train, which was now beginning to move slowly. They jumped into the nearest carriage and into the train.  
  
  
  
'Thanks.' Aaron said.  
  
  
  
'No biggy, anytime.' Said the girl, and with that she left the compartment and walked off down the train.  
  
  
  
Aaron sat down in the seat, and put his trunk out beside him. He looked around. How long was the journey? What could he do? He didn't know anyone and he hadn't brought anything to do.  
  
  
  
But just as he was thinking these thoughts, he heard some loud raucous laughter – punctuated by snorts – coming from outside the compartment.  
  
  
  
'Yeah (snort) we got (snort) top box tickets (snort) at the quidditch (snort) world cup.' The boy stopped laughing. Aaron recognised it as the – awful whiny – voice of Boris, the boy at the Quidditch World cup.  
  
  
  
'Wow!' gasped his friend. 'Were you in the front row?'  
  
  
  
'Yeah.' He boasted, 'I spat on Potter when he did that lap of honour. I always knew he would betray our country.'  
  
  
  
Liar, thought Aaron, you were in the second row. And no one had spat at Harry Potter; no one had even touched him.   
  
  
  
No one, except Aaron.   
  
  
  
When the English team had lined up in the top box to collect the cup, a bright light had filled the top box, as the team all filed in.  
  
  
  
Aaron could see Bohemia holding the cup, preparing to hand it to Harry, who was first in the line. When Harry took the cup, he was standing right in front of Aaron, [I]right in front of him![/I]  
  
  
  
Aaron knew that he shouldn't do it … but he had to … Harry Potter was his hero. He reached forward to put his hand on the back of Harry's neck. He wouldn't notice … would he?  
  
  
  
As his hand touched Harry's neck, a huge jolt went down his arm, making him jump with shock. It hadn't been a nice feeling, like he had when he held his wand, it had been like a huge electric shock, and Aaron couldn't explain why.  
  
  
  
Just then, Aaron's thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Boris in his compartment.  
  
  
  
'Oh hi.' Said Boris. 'Do you know me from somewhere?' Aaron noticed it was "do you know me" not "do I know you".  
  
  
  
'I was at the quidditch world cup.' Said Aaron sullenly.  
  
  
  
'OH YES! I remember you! You were the little squirt sitting my seat weren't you?'  
  
  
  
'It wasn't [I]your seat.[/I]..'  
  
  
  
'Hey Ike, this little kid was sitting in my seat at the quidditch world cup. What do we tell people who do things like that to us?' He said to his friend.  
  
  
  
'Uh …' said Ike. 'We tell them … not to mess with you?'  
  
  
  
'That's right!' said Boris, and then turned to Aaron. 'Take note of what he said squirt, don't mess with Boris Godfrey, or else.' He punched his right hand into his left fist, and crossed his finger across his throat. He turned around and started to leave the compartment, with Ike closely following him.  
  
  
  
'I have a name you know, it's Aaron Bulstrode!'   
  
  
  
Boris Godfrey turned around. 'You're… you're Aaron Bulstrode?'  
  
  
  
'That's right Godfrey.' Said Aaron, bemused at his sudden change of mood.   
  
  
  
'Well, sorry Thomas, we must have got off to a bad start. The name's Boris Godfrey pleased to meet you. I suppose you'll be in Slytherin?'   
  
  
  
'Thomas?' said Aaron, confused. 'My name's Aaron, not Thomas. And no, I don't think I fancy being in Slytherin, I heard they were all a bunch of snivelling cheaters, like my sister.'  
  
  
  
Boris sneered at Aaron. 'Snivelling cheaters? Don't speak too soon, Bulstrode.'  
  
  
  
'I told you my name was Aaron, [I]Godfrey.[/I] and leave off with the Bulstrode.'  
  
  
  
Godfrey gave a knowing look to Ike, who was fast approaching Aaron, pounding his fists together.  
  
  
  
'Leave it Ike, he obviously doesn't know.'  
  
  
  
'I don't know what?' asked Aaron.  
  
  
  
'Well,' began Boris, but he never got the chance to carry on. The girl with the fluffy blonde hair had arrived in the doorway, and very loudly at that.  
  
  
  
'Godfrey!' she shouted. 'I thought you'd be in here. Stop harassing people. Go on … get out!' she seemed to have an effect on Godfrey, as he strode out of the compartment, with Ike hot on his heels, looking his best to look dignified.  
  
  
  
'How do you do that?' Aaron asked.  
  
  
  
'What?'  
  
  
  
'Get them to go away without them threatening to punch your head in!'  
  
  
  
'Oh, I went to primary school with them. I was set to go to high school with them, when I got the invitation to here! I thought I'd escaped them, but no, I'm just going to have to learn to cope with them. Don't be fooled, just because they do what I say … they're real hard nuts, they'd sooner punch your head in than greet you. What were they bothering you about?'  
  
  
  
Aaron groaned. 'Oh, don't make me say! I've only met them for five minutes and they seem to be picking on me for everything! Where I sit at the quidditch world cup … my name … he refuses to call me Aaron, insists on calling me Thomas.'  
  
  
  
'Thomas isn't your name?'  
  
  
  
'No. It's my middle name, but goodness knows how he knows it! My name's Aaron, what's yours?'  
  
  
  
'Winter.'   
  
  
  
Suddenly Hebe gave a loud mew from her cage, Aaron and Winter turned around in shock.  
  
  
  
'You have a black cat? Oh how sweet, he's a darling! What's his name?'  
  
  
  
'It's a she,' corrected Aaron. 'Her name's Hebe, it's Greek.'   
  
  
  
He opened Hebe's cage door and let her out. Hebe walked around for a bit, rubbing her nose on Winters leg and scratching her claws all over the furniture. A lady with a trolley came round the corner at that moment.  
  
  
  
'Any food, m'dears?' she asked them.   
  
  
  
'No thanks.' Said Aaron, and shook his head.  
  
  
  
Winter looked at the little amount of coins she had brought out in her hand. 'Hmm, I could get a chocolate frog each, and a cauldron cake each. How does that sound.' Aaron nodded his head vigorously; he had never had a chocolate frog, or a cauldron cake.  
  
  
  
The trolley lady handed over the things she ordered, and Winter tipped all the money from her palm into the lady's outstretched hand.  
  
  
  
Aaron took his chocolate frog, and opened the packet with anticipation. Inside was one chocolate frog and a card, with the name Zaterina Pulsae, he'd never heard of her.  
  
  
  
'I've got Zaterina Pulsae, I've never heard of her!'  
  
  
  
Winters head jerked up from what she was looking at. 'Zaterina Pulsae? I've been looking for her for ages! I've got Potter, I've got about ten of him.'   
  
  
  
Aaron wasn't really interested in collecting the cards, but if Winter had Potter … 'can we swap? Only I'm a really big fan of Harry Potter, and you can have my Zaterina Pulsae.'  
  
  
  
'Yeah OK then.' Said Winter, and she handed over the card, Aaron gave his to her. He read the card in his hand.  
  
  
  
[I]Harry Potter, formerly seeker on the English quidditch team.  
  
Considered to be the greatest asset to the English quidditch team  
  
in many years, but also rumoured to be a very powerful wizard  
  
himself. Potter is particularly famous for his numerous defeats   
  
of he-who-must-not-be-named. Harry Potter enjoys quidditch and  
  
his most distinguishable feature is the lightening bolt scar on his  
  
forehead.[/I]  
  
  
  
What did they mean, formerly seeker for England? They must have got it wrong, Aaron put it out of his mind.   
  
  
  
'So, you a fan of Potter then?'  
  
  
  
Aaron grinned. 'Yeah. I went to see the quidditch world cup.'  
  
  
  
'Cool. I wish I could have gone, but my parents aren't into quidditch, I'm pure-blood, but they sent me to muggle school so I could learn how to read and add up. Completely useless, but my Grandma's a teacher so I had to go.'  
  
  
  
'So why did Gordon go to school?' asked Aaron. Winter shrugged.  
  
  
  
'I don't know. To be honest, I think his parents thought he was a squib or something!' they both laughed.  
  
  
  
'I saw that awful article by Floella Skeeter; I thought it was totally out of order. I'm not glad Potter left England's team, but I'm just looking forward to getting to school!'  
  
  
  
'Why?' asked Aaron. 'I don't get the Daily Prophet, I don't know.'  
  
  
  
'Oh!' exclaimed Winter, 'you don't know! I don't think I should tell you, wait till we get to Hogwarts.'   
  
  
  
Aaron didn't argue, but he did wonder what she was going to tell him. For the rest of the journey they discussed what house they wanted to be in. Winter was the first person Aaron had ever told about how he would detest being in Slytherin.  
  
  
  
He didn't know the exact merits of each house, but he said – 'if my sister is the kind of person who would fit into Slytherin, I don't want to be in it.'  
  
  
  
Winter didn't mind where she was put. She told Aaron that her Dad had been in Slytherin and her Mum had been in Ravenclaw, and she took after her Dad more, so she wouldn't be surprised if she was put in Slytherin.  
  
  
  
Aaron hoped that she would be put into Ravenclaw like her mum, and he could go there too. He didn't know Winter very well, but she had been the first person to be kind to him, and she was very friendly.   
  
  
  
The sky outside was getting darker, and the Hogwarts Express started to slow, so Aaron grabbed Hebe and put her back in her cage. Soon the train came to a stop and all the students filed out onto Hogsmeade platform.  
  
  
  
Aaron shivered in exhilaration and walked out onto the platform, the cold night air blowing his blonde hair into his eyes.  
  
  
  
'Firs' years this way!' shouted a voice, and Aaron looked up and saw a giant of a man standing on the other side of the platform.  
  
  
  
'Come on!' said Winter, her eyes shining with excitement, as she grabbed Aaron around the wrist and pulled him through the crowd towards the man.  
  
  
  
When all the firs' years – as the huge man put it – were assembled, he said. 'Righ' then, let's be off. All firs' year follow me!'  
  
  
  
All the first years, some looking excited like Aaron and Winter, some just looking plain scared, followed him, in a huge huddle.  
  
  
  
'Meh name's Hagrid, and ah'll be takin' yeh to see yeh firs' glimpse o' Hogwarts.' He said, booming to all the first years.  
  
  
  
They followed Hagrid down a dark narrow path, it was starting to get very cold, Aaron wrapped his cloak around him tightly. After filing down the path in this fashion for a while, they turned a corner, and Aaron saw a vast lake stretching out in front of him, a sparkling sapphire blue.   
  
  
  
He looked beyond the lake, and there he saw something that took his breath away. It was a huge castle, with countless towers and turrets that seemed to reach into the clouds. It looked so picturesque with the fiery sunset above it, and sapphire lake below.  
  
  
  
'Four or less to a boat!' shouted Hagrid, and Aaron suddenly saw what he meant. There were boats lined up in the lake in front of them, ready for the students to get in.  
  
  
  
'We're not going to [I]row[/I] across the lake are we?' Aaron said incredulously.  
  
  
  
'You betcha.' Said Hagrid, a slight chuckle in his voice. 'An' don' worry if yeh fall in, the giant squid'll push yeh righ' back out again!'  
  
  
  
Several first years visibly gulped at this statement, which only made Hagrid laugh all the more. Aaron and Winter cautiously stepped into a boat, careful not to rock it too much, and two other girls stepped in behind them.   
  
  
  
They started to row across the lake, well, the three girls started to row, Aaron just waved his oars about a bit, looking very ungainly. Rowing was something that Millicent had never let him do.  
  
  
  
They started to approach a curtain of ivy, and one of the girl behind Aaron screeched, 'is it poisonous? It's not poisonous is it?' but nobody answered her, so when they reached the ivy, she just ducked out of the way.  
  
  
  
After they came out of the little tunnel, Aaron looked before them. There, in front of him was a cobbled dockyard. They got out of the boats and walked through the dockyard, to find themselves on a grassy stretch, in the shadow of Hogwarts.  
  
  
  
Hagrid walked up the stairs, the gaggle of first years behind him, whispering nervously. 'Shh.' He said, and turned to face the great oaken doors, leading into the castle itself.  
  
  
  
He knocked three times on the doors, and slowly they began to creak open. When they were open fully, Aaron could see a witch in emerald robes standing at the top of them. She looked aged, but somehow very exact.  
  
  
  
'First years.' She said, not to them, but more of a way of acknowledging them. 'Come in, come in, bring them in Hagrid!'  
  
  
  
The first years trooped into the castle, shivering, but luckily not wet. They gathered on some steps in a huge entrance hall, Aaron gaped as he looked around, his eyes wide open. So [I]this[/I] was Hogwarts!  
  
  
  
They followed the witch into a little room off to the side of the hall, where they all assembled, and the witch addressed them.  
  
  
  
'Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. My name is Professor McGonagall, I am assistant head and head of Gryffindor house. You have all been privileged to come here, so while you are here, I ask you not to abuse your rights.'  
  
  
  
'Or your lefts.' Whispered Winter. Aaron could see Godfrey behind him, drawing on one of the walls.  
  
  
  
'In a moment, you will be taken into the great hall, where the start of term banquet will begin. But before you take your seats for the banquet, you must be sorted into your houses.' Professor McGonagall looked to the back of the group, for a moment Aaron thought she was looking at him, but then he saw she was looking to Godfrey, who was standing behind him, still drawing on the wall. 'Mr. Godfrey, could you please refrain from defacing the property, or the property will deface you.'  
  
  
  
Aaron laughed to himself, and grinned over at Winter, who returned the grin.  
  
  
  
'There are four houses, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin. Each house has its own merits, and each house has produced some exceptional wizards and witches over the many years of Hogwarts. You can earn points for your house by special achievements, and lose points for any breaking of the rules. May you each be a credit to your respective house. The sorting ceremony will begin imminently, I will return when everyone is ready for it to begin. Oh, and Mr. Bulstrode,' Aaron looked up. 'Unless you are hiding something illegal under that cloak, I suggest you release your grip on it, before you tear the material.' She left the room.   
  
  
  
Aaron remembered that he was still wrapping his cloak around him tightly, so he let go of it quickly. Godfrey laughed at him as he did this, and continued to draw on the wall. But a second later a fist had protruded from the wall and given Godfrey a quick push, making him topple into Ike. Ha, serves you right for laughing, though Aaron.   
  
  
  
They waited in the room for about 5 more minutes, and then McGonagall returned into the room.  
  
  
  
'We are ready now, please follow me.' She left the room, indicating for the students to follow her.  
  
  
  
All the first years followed her into the great hall. In the hall there were four tables and students sat at each. There were candles floating in mid-air and the ceiling was as black as the night sky outside, minus the cold.  
  
  
  
And as Harry looked around at the students, he thought he could see, intermingled with them … ghosts! Aaron could hardly believe his eyes.  
  
  
  
A stool was being placed in front of the collection of first years, and placed upon it was a grotty old hat, covered in patches and ragged.  
  
  
  
'Why doesn't somebody remove the hat?' Aaron asked Winter.  
  
  
  
But before Winter could answer him, a rip opened in the hats brim and the hat began to sing!  
  
  
  
Every year I sit upon this stool,   
  
And chant a rhyme,  
  
To decide where all new students,   
  
Would be best to spend their time.  
  
I've got all the knowledge,  
  
And the know-how plenty too,  
  
To analyse your thoughts,  
  
About which house is best for you.  
  
I might be just a hat in shape,  
  
And look a little foolish,   
  
But I can sort the trusty,  
  
From the daring and the bookish.  
  
Gryffindor might be right for you,   
  
Adorned with red and gold,  
  
Where you can find students,   
  
Who are valiant and bold,  
  
In Hufflepuff you might belong,  
  
Decked with yellow and black,  
  
Trusty, honest, thorough too,  
  
In integrity they don't lack.  
  
Or perhaps Ravenclaw is the one,  
  
Their house is bronze and blue,  
  
They're brainy, alert, intelligent as well,  
  
Is this the house for you?  
  
Last of all there's Slytherin,  
  
House colours of silver and green,  
  
Like foxes these folk are cunning and sly,  
  
But they're not necessarily mean.  
  
So if you put me on your head,  
  
For there's no need to fear, you see,  
  
I'll put you right where you'd be best,  
  
To show your worth potentially.  
  
  
  
Everyone in the hall clapped enthusiastically, including Aaron. He stared amazed at the hat, had he really just seen it sing a song?! While living with Millicent, he had seen some magic, but not an awful lot because she wasn't really very good at any of it.  
  
  
  
So they had to try that hat on, it looked very big, Aaron wasn't sure it would stay propped on the top of his head. Professor McGonagall took out a large scroll and cleared her throat.  
  
  
  
'Allison, Toby!'  
  
  
  
Toby Allison clearly wasn't sure of what to do, but then McGonagall indicated for him to go and sit down on the stool, and put the hat on. Aaron knew he was near the beginning of the alphabet, but he was very glad he didn't have to go first.  
  
  
  
'HUFFLEPUFF!' the hat cried.  
  
  
  
'Braidy, Caitlyn!'  
  
  
  
'GRYFFINDOR!'  
  
  
  
'Bulstrode, Thomas.'  
  
  
  
Aaron stood there, slightly confused. Did she mean him? Nobody else was stepping forwards, perhaps it was him. After all, Godfrey had called him that earlier. But it was his [I]middle[/I] name!  
  
  
  
'Bulstrode, Thomas.' McGonagall called again, this time, Aaron stepped forward.  
  
  
  
'I think you might mean me. My name's Aaron Bulstrode, not Thomas. Thomas is my middle name.'  
  
  
  
'Well, I've got you down here as Thomas. I think it is you. Well, go and put the hat on then …'  
  
  
  
Aaron stomped defiantly over to the stool. He'd never had a problem with his middle name before, but now he was staring to get quite annoyed with it. He put the hat on, and it fell right over his eyes. Immediately he heard a voice inside the hat, and he nearly jumped of the stool!  
  
  
  
'Well now, what have we got here? A Bulstrode with brains! That's something I never thought I'd see … hmm, you seem different to the rest of your family, I must not judge you on them … in fact, you seem to be quite an individual. So you've got brains, you'd do very well in Ravenclaw …' yes please! Though Aaron, Ravenclaw will be just fine! 'And you will work hard to achieve things that you really [I]care[/I] about, but not enough so that you'd fit into Hufflepuff. I can see bravery, oh yes, lots of courageousness here, Gryffindor would be quite a good choice as well. But there's something else here, something telling me different. Remember, I'm judging you not on what you have done, more as to what you're capable of … yes, I see now, you could excel in Slytherin too, this is quite a tough one.' Oh no, thought Aaron, please don't put me in Slytherin … 'ah,' said the hat, 'how many times have I heard that request! And each time I have gone with that persons wishes, but in your case I may have to contradict … goodness me, I haven't had this much trouble since Harry Potter. I think … and this will be my final decision, that you will go into …   
  
  
  
SLYTHERIN!' Shouted the hat, but Aaron didn't move.  
  
  
  
No! He thought. You're wrong! I don't want to go into Slytherin!  
  
  
  
'I'm sorry,' said the hat, 'but that's my final decision. You're a Slytherin, and there's no point challenging me.'  
  
  
  
'Mr. Bulstrode, will you please take the hat [I]off[/I] and go and sit at the Slytherin table.'  
  
  
  
Aaron sn@tched the hat from his head, and rammed it back on the stool, as if he could hurt it. He was so mad he was fuming. He had waited to come to Hogwarts for so long, it had kept him going through the holidays, and now he was here it was all going wrong!  
  
  
  
He stomped over to the Slytherin table, where he was clapped rather reluctantly, because he looked so mad. All he wanted to do was to detach himself from his sister, and he just couldn't do that!   
  
  
  
He was going to be nice. He decided. He was going to show Millicent, and be nice all year.  
  
  
  
McGonagall continued to read from the list of students.   
  
  
  
'Concetta, Derrene!'  
  
  
  
'RAVENCLAW!'  
  
  
  
'Copse, Regan!'  
  
  
  
'GRYFFINDOR!'  
  
  
  
'Fenton, May!'  
  
  
  
'HUFFLEPUFF!'  
  
  
  
'Gettherd, Faith!'  
  
  
  
'SLYTHERIN!'  
  
  
  
And so the list continued, with 'Godfrey, Boris!' being sorted into Slytherin along with 'Williamson, Ike!' until finally …  
  
  
  
'Young, Winter!'  
  
  
  
Aaron waited in anticipation. He no longer wanted her to go into Ravenclaw, he wanted her to come into Slytherin with him, he needed a friend!  
  
  
  
'SLYTHERIN!' Shouted the hat, and Winter sauntered over to ther table, looking not at all bothered about her choice of house.  
  
  
  
She sat down at the table next to him, and saw the morose look on his face. 'I know what you're upset about, and you don't have to be.'  
  
  
  
'Yes I do.' Said Aaron.  
  
  
  
'No you don't!' she said. 'So you don't want to be like your sister, then don't be like her! Being sorted into Slytherin doesn't mean that you're like her. Godfrey's on Slytherin too and are you like him? No. Your sister is a person, not a whole house!'  
  
  
  
Aaron smiled at this thought. She was right; he was acting like his sister. He would have to perk up and just be him, because whatever house he had been put in, he would still have been him. Aaron saw their headmaster, Professor Dumbledore stand up – with the help of McGonagall – at the staff table.  
  
  
  
'I'd just like to mention a few start of term notices.' He said, and proceeded to say all the rules and regulations of Hogwarts, soon enough though, he'd finished his speech. 'Now, before we start, I'd just like to say a few more words. He who laughs last, didn't get the joke in the first place.'  
  
  
  
The students laughed appreciatively, and then a huge feast appeared before their eyes. This time, Aaron couldn't contain his excitement. 'Wow!' he breathed.  
  
  
  
'Never seen food before, have you Bulstrode?' sneered Godfrey from across the table.  
  
  
  
'Ignore him.' Whispered Winter, and so Aaron continued to tuck in.   
  
  
  
There was roast beef, and lamb, and all sorts of sausages. There were vegetables, and fish, and a bowlful of chips. There was some sort of oriental food further down the table, and also little sandwiches for people to nibble. There were bowlfuls of crisps of all sorts, some kinds Aaron had never even seen before!   
  
  
  
It all looked to him a bit like Sandy's birthday party. When he had been a small child, he had been invited to a party of a girl called Sandy, in the village. For some reason he had been allowed to go, and the food had been set up like this. Except there was about ten tons more food at Hogwarts!  
  
  
  
Aaron piled everything he could onto his plate that he could, and started scoffing all the food into his mouth. He had never seen so much food in his life!  
  
  
  
'Be careful Aaron,' said Winter. The idea is you actually [I]chew[/I] the food …'   
  
  
  
'Winter!' said Aaron, after looking at your plate, 'you've got hardly anything on your plate! Aren't you hungry?'  
  
  
  
'Yes,' she replied, 'I am hungry, but I'm also vegetarian. Look at all these dishes, roast beef, roast lamb, roast pork, chipolatas, hot dogs, burgers … what's there for me? There isn't even any pizza!'   
  
  
  
'I don't know.' Said Aaron. 'But I know how we can find out.' He got out of his seat and started walking across the hall.  
  
  
  
'Where are you going?' asked Winter.   
  
  
  
'To the staff table.' Said Aaron. 'Aren't you coming?'  
  
  
  
'Don't!' she said. 'I'm not that hungry!' but Aaron was already gone, walking straight up to the staff table. When he got there, he found all of the teachers staring at him, so he cleared his throat.  
  
  
  
'Professor Dumbledore …'   
  
  
  
Professor McGonagall interrupted him. 'Mr. Bulstrode, will you go back to the Slytherin table please.'  
  
  
  
'But …'  
  
  
  
'Mr. Bulstrode.' She said warningly. Aaron turned to walk away, but then he heard Professor Dumbledore calling him back.  
  
  
  
'It's Thomas Bulstrode isn't it?'  
  
  
  
'Aaron.'  
  
  
  
'Yes, Aaron, sorry. Anyway, what was it you wanted?'  
  
  
  
Good. Aaron thought, at least Professor Dumbledore would listen. 'It's my friend Winter you see,' he began, 'she's a vegetarian, but there's nothing for her to eat.'   
  
  
  
'Oh dear.' Said Dumbledore, looking at Aaron. 'And there was me, asking food to be prepared for all nationalities, making sure no foreigner was left out, and I didn't even think of vegetarians! Now, what would she [I]like[/I] to eat?'  
  
  
  
'Er …' Aaron hesitated. He hadn't actually thought that far ahead, he was just going to take a lucky guess. Now what was it she had said earlier? 'Pizza.' He said. 'She'd like some pizza.'  
  
  
  
'Severus!' Dumbledore called to another teacher sitting further down the table. 'will you please go down to the kitchens and instruct the house-elves to make a pizza please, with no meat or fish.' The teacher nodded and left the staff table.  
  
  
  
Just before Aaron turned back to the Slytherin table, he noticed that the seat next to Dumbledore was vacant. He wondered which teacher that was, maybe it was a new teacher, or maybe it was just an old one, who was ill. Dumbledore saw Aaron looking at the empty seat, and gave him a sly wink.   
  
  
  
Aaron wondered what the secret was, and made his way back to the Slytherin table. He was extremely surprised to find Winter already tucking into a huge Italian pizza.  
  
  
  
'Oh. You could have told me you already had something. Otherwise I wouldn't have needed to go and ask Dumbledore!' she giggled through a mouthful of pizza, and put her hand over her mouth.   
  
  
  
'I didn't have this before you went! It just kind of appeared on my plate!' Aaron stared at her astounded.  
  
  
  
'I wish something would appear on my plate.' Said Aaron, and he pulled out his wand, and pointed it at his plate.  
  
  
  
'Whoa! Nice wand!' someone exclaimed from down the table. It was the first year, Faith Getthard.  
  
  
  
'Thanks.' Said Aaron, suddenly very proud of his wand.  
  
  
  
'She's right you know,' said Winter. 'That's a bloody nice wand! What's it made out of?'   
  
  
  
'11 ¼ inches, Dragon Heartstring …' he paused before he told her what wood it was made from, as he remembered the reaction of Ollivander Jr. 'Japanese Cherry.'  
  
  
  
'Ooh, very exotic!' she said. 'It's really dark too, almost black.' Aaron pointed his wand at his plate. 'Do you know any spells?' Winter asked.  
  
  
  
'No.' he said. 'But Mill … my sister used to do this kind of thing at home.'  
  
  
  
'Did it work?'  
  
  
  
'… [I]No[/I]' Aaron said, but then before Winter could protest, shouted 'food appear!' at his plate.  
  
  
  
Nothing happened, apart from some six years down the table laughing at him slightly. 'Food appear!' he shouted again.  
  
  
  
This time, something happened.  
  
  
  
A huge jet of light came out of Aaron's wand, knocking everything off the table, and into Godfrey's face, which in turn knocked him backwards off his seat. Food went flying everywhere, and Aaron could hear a few plates and bowls smashing. He winced.  
  
  
  
'Oops.'   
  
  
  
'Aaron Bulstrode.' He could see McGonagall striding up to him, looking very severe. 'Please stop moving, now. You've been here, what, two hours? And already you are making the [I]worst[/I] first impression that I have ever seen!'  
  
  
  
Aaron scuffed his shoe on the floor. 'Sorry.'  
  
  
  
'So you should be! I would take points away from Slytherin, but as this is your first impression, I will let this be your first warning.' She breathed in through her nose, and the teacher who had gone down to the kitchens.  
  
  
  
'Thank you Minerva,' he said, 'I think I can take it from here.' He put his hand on Aaron's shoulder and led him out of the hall, into a corridor off the side.  
  
  
  
He looked at Aaron, a look of warning on his face. Aaron was slightly scared. He hadn't meant to do all that stuff! It wasn't his fault that Millicent couldn't do magic properly, and taught him fake spells!  
  
  
  
'You are one of the new Slytherins?'  
  
  
  
'Yes sir.'  
  
  
  
'My name is Professor Snape. I teach potions, and I am the head of Slytherin house.' Aaron gulped. Uh-oh, this was the head of his [I]house![/I]  
  
  
  
'I don't know if you were listening to the start of term speech given by the headmaster, but you clearly feel that you are above the rules. I don't want any of my Slytherins to disappoint me this year, but [I]that[/I] display out [I]there[/I] was one of the most blatantly obvious displays of plain ignorance, and I expect your behaviour to improve immensely! Consider yourself lucky that you aren't losing any points.'  
  
  
  
Aaron hung his head in shame.  
  
  
  
'Yes sir.'  
  
  
  
'Let's forget that bad start, when I see you tomorrow, let's pretend that that is your first impression. Now, wait here while I get a prefect to show you up to your dormitory.'  
  
  
  
'So I miss the rest of the feast? Did Professor McGonagall order that?' Aaron sneered at the thought of McGonagall banning him from the feast.  
  
  
  
'Now that's the Slytherin I want to see! Yes, unfortunately that is her decision. She has far too much of a say in the running of this school in my opinion. The feast is nearly over anyway, just one announcement to go, of the new flying teacher, you won't be missing much.' A look of loathing flickered across Snape's face, not at Aaron, and Aaron wondered what he hated so much.  
  
  
  
'Anyway, I must go now, be there for the announcement. A prefect will be here soon.' He clapped Aaron on the back and left the corridor.   
  
  
  
Aaron waited in that corridor for what seemed like an age, until finally a student was thrown into the corridor.  
  
  
  
Yes, thrown.  
  
  
  
He picked himself up of the floor and looked at Aaron with a dark expression.  
  
  
  
'Well come on then, move!' he said hurriedly, pushing Aaron along the corridor, 'I don't want to miss the announcement!'  
  
  
  
This just made Aaron feel worse about being excluded from the hall, who was this teacher that everyone wanted to see?  
  
  
  
He followed the prefect down the corridors, and down the stairs, the air began to get colder and he realised that they were probably underground by now.  
  
  
  
Suddenly they stopped in front of a bare stone wall. Aaron was completely breathless, after being made to run for a quarter of an hour.  
  
  
  
'Is this it?' asked Aaron.   
  
  
  
'Yes, the password's tarkus binihil.' A hidden door slid open to reveal a room behind it. 'OK, you're room's in there it's labelled if you go in your trunk will be there bye.' He said it all in one breath and then ran back through the labyrinth of corridors.  
  
  
  
Aaron stepped through the door, and it shut behind him. The room was long and it had a very low ceiling. Aaron was only small but he still felt like the ceiling was coming down on him, in a way it was a nice feeling. The chairs were all carved from wood like the fireplace, and stained a very dark brown. Green lamps were everywhere, casting an eerie glow around the room.   
  
  
  
Aaron was shattered, so he thought he'd go and look for all his belongings. There were two staircases to choose from, he chose the left one, as he was left handed, he hoped it was the right one.  
  
  
  
He walked up the stone staircase, and saw the first door he came to. It said "6th year Slytherin boys:" and then reeled off a list of five names. So he was in the right place, he just had to find the "First year." Door.  
  
  
  
He walked up a little further, counting the doors as he went. When he reached the 16th door up, he finally found it. "1st year Slytherin Boys: Aaron Bulstrode, Ike Williamson, Boris Godfrey, Copper Aisling, Ben Johnstone.'   
  
  
  
Aaron was glad to see they had finally got his name right.  
  
  
  
He opened the door and entered the room, but it was not empty. Hebe rubbed her head on his legs and mewed softly.  
  
  
  
He looked around at the beds and saw his trunk next to one, all ready to be unpacked. He sighed and sat down on his bed, which had green velvet hangings.  
  
  
  
For the next half an hour, Aaron wandered around doing nothing really. He looked at all the things in the dorm, and played with Hebe, but when he heard other students filing into the common room he was happy. Ike and Godfrey were walking together, and two other boys, one with flaming red hair and another with sand coloured hair.  
  
  
  
'Yeah, I can't [I]wait[/I] till the first flying lesson!' the sandy-haired boy was saying. 'Oh, hello!' He said, when he – and the other boy – caught sight of Aaron. 'My name's Ben, what's yours?'  
  
  
  
'Aaron.' He said.  
  
  
  
'My name's Copper.' said the boy with the red hair. Poor boy, thought Aaron, with a name like Copper and hair like that!  
  
  
  
Suddenly Godfrey spoke up. 'I'm Boris Godfrey,' he said loudly, 'and this is Ike Williamson.'  
  
  
  
Ike guffawed stupidly.  
  
  
  
'I can see why you're called Copper!' he said, pointing to Copper's red hair. Oh no … thought Aaron, trust Ike to put his foot in it.  
  
  
  
But Copper was replying, 'Yeah,' he said, 'and I can see why you're called Oik.'  
  
  
  
Ben and Aaron burst out laughing, Ike looked confused, but Godfrey stayed deadly serious. 'It's [I]Ike[/I] not [I]Oik.'[/I] said Godfrey, pounding his fists together.  
  
  
  
Suddenly someone burst in the door, panting and out of breath. They all turned around to see who it was, and Aaron was shocked when he saw them.  
  
  
  
'Winter!' he shouted, 'what are you doing in here? This is the boys dorm!'  
  
  
  
'You don't think I know that?' she said, regaining her breath, 'I had six fourth-year boys trying to chase me out, and aiming jinxes at me at the same time. Real picnic that is.'   
  
  
  
'Why are you here?' asked Aaron.  
  
  
  
'Yeah.' Said Godfrey. 'Tell your girlfriend to push off, squirt.'  
  
  
  
'Shut it Godfrey!' said Winter, 'I'm going now anyway. Aaron, you have to come here!'  
  
  
  
'What? –'  
  
  
  
'Just come!' she left the room, and Aaron went after her. He wondered what she had to say, what could be important enough to be jinxed for. They went into the common room, where Winter pulled Aaron to one side. There were still a few students who hadn't gone to bed, but the last of them were leaving now.  
  
  
  
Right.' she said. 'After you left the hall, they made the announcement I was telling you about on the train. Don't talk!' she said, as Aaron opened his mouth, 'there's a new flying teacher at Hogwarts. It's Harry Potter.'  
  
  
  
Aaron was rendered speechless. 'A – wha' – WHO?' he said. 'Re – repeat that!'  
  
  
  
'Harry Potter!' she said, 'he's teaching flying, here, at Hogwarts!'  
  
  
  
Aaron gaped. He had missed that announcement – [I]Harry Potter, teaching flying here at Hogwarts![/I]  
  
  
  
'Oh.' He sighed, 'I missed it.'  
  
  
  
'Yes …' said Winter, 'but no! This girl in our year – the one who was sitting down the table, Faith – she's got brothers here, and she said she could take you to the office, Harry Potters office!'  
  
  
  
Aaron looked at her, confused. 'But what am I meant to do?'  
  
  
  
'Go and ask him about Quidditch trials, I don't know what you can do … this is kind of spur of the moment … but just make sure you aren't caught, Faith will be with you. Do you want to do it?'  
  
  
  
Aaron nodded. 'OK, let me just go and get Faith.' she said, and went up the right staircase.  
  
  
  
When she returned, she had Faith with her, who looked at Aaron and smiled.  
  
  
  
'Hi.' She said, 'so you want to know the way to Potters office?' Aaron nodded.  
  
  
  
'I'm going to bed now!' said Winter, 'be careful Aaron, don't get in trouble!'  
  
  
  
'I won't,' he replied, 'I've already had one too many "chats" from Snape.' Winter smiled at him, and went back up the staircases.  
  
  
  
'Night!' he shouted, and he heard a distant reply from somewhere up the stairs.  
  
  
  
'Right then,' said Faith, walking towards the door, 'let's go then, shall we?'   
  
  
  
Aaron followed Faith out of the common room, the door shutting silently behind them, Aaron wondered what was powering it.  
  
  
  
'Keep following me – closely.' said Faith, indicating with her hand for him to stay close, 'my brothers have told me about this place.'   
  
  
  
'Why, are they often wandering around at night?'  
  
  
  
Faith grinned. 'Well, Jordan's just a plain troublemaker, likes sneaking around, you know … but Christian's got this girlfriend in Ravenclaw … he's always sneaking out … you get the picture …'  
  
  
  
Aaron nodded, as he had so many times before that evening, as they continued to walk down the corridor. Aaron noticed they were attracting many strange looks from the pictures on the walls.  
  
  
  
'I had a word with Jordan after the feast, after Winter told me what a fan of Potter you are, and we should be going the right way!'  
  
  
  
'This is just a question.' Said Aaron, 'I'm really grateful and all, for you doing this, but why? I mean, I didn't speak to you on the train of anything!'  
  
  
  
Faith shrugged. 'I dunno, I guess you just seem nice! I want to make friends, and after I talked to Winter, she seemed nice too. She told me how much of a Harry Potter fan you were, and I reckoned I could help. Anyway, look, we're here.'  
  
  
  
She took Aaron up to a staircase, and they came to a wooden door, it had no sign on it, so Aaron felt a bit unsure as he raised his fist – and knocked. 


	10. Midnight wanderings

A/N: HARRY POV  
  
*  
  
Harry entered the entrance hall, shivering. It was so cold outside! And why had he been late, why today of all days? Trust Ron to keep him talking, going on for so long … and on the day he started his new job and everything!  
  
  
  
He paused before he entered the great hall. He could hear all the students inside, feasting away, and he inhaled deeply.   
  
  
  
He hoped they had not read the Daily Prophet, and missed Floella Skeeter's article, or if they had, he hoped they would take no notice of it.  
  
  
  
He opened the door. A sea of student's faces looked at him, and one by one they shut up, as they realised who had entered the hall.  
  
  
  
Then the whispers started; and Harry lowered his head as he walked over to the staff table. He received a nod from McGonagall, and returned it, smiling. Dumbledore got up from his seat and addressed the students.  
  
  
  
'Hush now!' he said, 'shush!' there was silence in the great hall. 'As you may have heard over the summer holidays – in the most unaccommodating of places –' his eyes flashed, and Harry knew that he too was thinking of the article by Floella Skeeter, 'we have a new member of staff. Indeed, Harry Potter will be taking up the position of Flying teacher, and I would ask all students to treat him with the respect you would treat all teachers with. Thank you.'  
  
  
  
He sat back down, and applause filled the hall. Harry was relieved to see that every student in the hall was clapping, bar a small group at the Slytherin table, but only a very small group.   
  
  
  
He also cast a puzzling look at the part of the Slytherin table that had been blown to bits.  
  
  
  
'Hmm.' he murmured to himself. 'How peculiar. The Slytherins don't usually start fighting until [I]after[/I] the first lesson.' But then he reminded him self he was a teacher now, and had to be unbiased. He remembered how Snape had favoured his Slytherins, and although he was not head of house, he still couldn't show any prejudice towards the Slytherins.  
  
  
  
Remember, he thought, these are a different bunch of kids. There's no little Malfoys, Crabbes, Goyles or Riddles running around, he's have to treat them as he treated everyone else – unless they proved him different.  
  
  
  
'Roast beef, Harry?' Dumbledore held out a dish for him to take, and he felt a tap on his left arm.  
  
  
  
'Hi Harry!' it was Hermione. 'Why are you so late?' Harry turned to her.  
  
  
  
'I went to see Ron at his office, he was asking after Daisy. I thought you'd gone to see him?' he asked her. Hermione looked at her mashed potato.  
  
  
  
'I – I – I meant to. I just … didn't get round to it.' She shifted uncomfortably in her seat.  
  
  
  
'Hermione, is everything OK between you and Ron? You're not fighting are you?' he asked, wondering whether he wanted to hear the answer.  
  
  
  
'Oh no.' she said, 'everything's fine … yes – everything's fine. Are you looking forward to your first lesson?'  
  
  
  
Harry decided not to badger Hermione any more about Ron, although he knew something decidedly fishy was going on. He sincerely hoped they weren't fighting again, but Hermione looked so uncomfortable sitting there in the seat, and there was no doubt she had changed the subject, and – Harry thought – answered very hurriedly when he asked her if she and Ron were fighting.  
  
  
  
'Yes.' Harry said, 'although I can't remember who it is. I know I've got a few quidditch trials, a chaser for Ravenclaw and Slytherin, and a seeker as well for Slytherin.'  
  
  
  
'Oh!' Hermione looked impressed, 'and you get to choose them?'  
  
  
  
'Yup! It's just a pity that Gryffindor don't need anyone for their team, it would be good to see the new Gryffindor talent.'   
  
  
  
Just then Daisy started to cry noisily, attracting the attention of all the students. Most of them turned back to their food when they saw what it was, but one girl from the Slytherin table started walking up to the staff table.  
  
  
  
'Not again!' said McGonagall. 'Severus, what [I]is[/I] wrong with your first years tonight?' Snape looked put out at Professor McGonagall openly knocking his students.  
  
  
  
The girl ran right up to the table. 'Aah!' she cooed, 'it's a [I]baby![/I]' she leaned over the table. 'I aint seen a baby for ages; I'm the youngest in our family. What's its name?'  
  
  
  
'Daisy.' Said Hermione, looking proud that someone thought her baby was [I]sweet.[/I]  
  
  
  
'I would ask you, miss, what is your name?' asked McGonagall.  
  
  
  
'Faith Gettherd miss. You pronounced my name wrong earlier. You say it geth-[I]erd[/I], not get-herd!'   
  
  
  
'Well, miss Gettherd, I would remind you that I am [I]Professor,[/I] not [I]miss,[/I] and to please go back to your table, where you should be!'  
  
  
  
'Humph.' said Faith, and stormed back to her house table. That girl's got some bottle, talking back to McGonagall like that, thought Harry.   
  
  
  
The rest of the feast passed without incident, and Harry talked to Hermione, and cooed appreciatively over Daisy, along with some other teachers.   
  
  
  
Penelope Clearwater, who had taken the position of Charms teacher, seemed particularly taken with the baby, and McGonagall kept casting misty-eyed looks down the staff table, but whenever Harry looked at her, she turned her head away.   
  
  
  
In fact, everyone seemed to like Daisy, until she threw up halfway through desert, all over Professor Dumbledore, and then people seemed to steer clear of her for a while.  
  
  
  
After dinner, and a few more announcements from Professor Dumbledore (after the rather [I]unfortunate[/I] passing of our caretaker, Mr Argus Filch, we have a new recruit … the list of "banned" items has not been increased this year – for once … quidditch trials shall take place …) Harry and Hermione left the table, where they both headed for Hermione's office.  
  
  
  
Over his seven years at Hogwarts, Harry had seen many things in this room, including magical creatures, odd dark detectors, and photographs of the (then famous) Gilderoy Lockhart.   
  
  
  
Who he might add, was not nearly now so handsome, and after he was revealed as a con artist he was not nearly so popular. His die hard fans still admired him for his good looks, but after his teeth started to stain and his blonde hair started to thin and fall out, even they didn't hang around for long.  
  
  
  
Now though, the office could only be described as, well – a jumble. The usually neat Hermione had somewhat let her standards slip in the last few months, but Harry didn't think it was all down to the arrival of Daisy, and the loss of Viktor. She claimed that she was all right, but Harry didn't believe her, and he couldn't put his finger on what was wrong.  
  
  
  
Harry stumbled on something that was lying on the floor, it turned out to be a baby rattle.  
  
  
  
'Oh sorry!' said Hermione, who had turned around on hearing Harry trip, 'I meant to clear that up this morning, but somehow I never got round to it.'  
  
  
  
Hmm – thought Harry – this was most unlike Hermione, not like her at all.  
  
  
  
Daisy was being relatively well behaved, and Hermione placed her in a cot, where she started crying loudly.  
  
  
  
'Grr.' Said Hermione.  
  
  
  
'Hermione, did you just growl?' said Harry, stunned.  
  
  
  
'Yes!' she said, grinning. 'It's become a really bad habit of mine, ever since Daisy started going through her clingy phase … d'ya know, I thought that we'd gone past the days of crying, and …'  
  
  
  
'I don't mean to offend you.' said Harry, 'but can we not talk about the baby for once?'   
  
  
  
'Of course!' said Hermione, nodding in agreement, 'sorry, I didn't mean to go on. So, are you looking forward to your first lesson?'  
  
  
  
But that wasn't what Harry wanted to talk about. 'No Hermione, I want to talk about Ron.'  
  
  
  
Hermione looked warily at Harry. 'What about him?'   
  
  
  
'I think you two in a fight, Hermione, and you aren't telling me. He talks about you and Daisy, but admit it, we all know that he's a much better liar than you! You won't talk about him, and I know for a fact you haven't seen him since the Quidditch World Cup. If you're fighting, I want to know about it, you two are my best friends and I don't want to be kept in the dark.' He folded his arms, as a sign that she couldn't deter him this time.  
  
  
  
She turned around to pick up Daisy, who was still bawling.  
  
  
  
'I hoped she'd grow out of this you know, I think she relies on me …' but Harry would not be discouraged.  
  
  
  
'Tell me what's going on!' he said.  
  
  
  
'Fine!' she shouted, and turned around to face him.  
  
  
  
'There's nothing going on! NOTHING!' she shouted, and by now, Daisy was positively howling. 'I haven't been to see Ron because I'm busy, I have got a job to do you know! And a child! If I haven't been mentioning him then it's not intentional, I just haven't.' Harry knew this was wrong, for a start. 'I haven't been avoiding him, I just … haven't seen him – it's not purposeful!'  
  
  
  
She finished shouting, and she was quite red in the face. Harry saw that her hat had fallen off and her eyes were tired. This wasn't the Hermione he knew, but he didn't want to push her any further.  
  
  
  
'Okay.' he said. 'I'm sorry. I won't bother you again. Just promise you will go and see him.'  
  
  
  
'I will.' she said 'I didn't mean to get so mad.' and Harry saw her eyes were filled with tears, a solitary one fell down her cheek.  
  
  
  
Harry went over and took Daisy from her arms, then sat her down in her cot. He turned and put his arms around Hermione, and hugged her.  
  
  
  
'What's going on with you Hermione?' he said kindly. 'You've never been like this before.'  
  
  
  
'I don't know,' she said, into his shoulder, 'I don't know!'  
  
  
  
'Hush,' he said, 'don't speak, you don't have to. I don't know what's wrong with you Hermione, and you don't have to tell me. But I just want you to know, that I'll always be there, always, I promise. You're my best friend, so whatever happens, I'll always be there.'  
  
  
  
She cried onto his shoulder for what seemed like an hour, but still she told Harry nothing.  
  
  
  
Daisy seemed to know that something was wrong, and quietened down. But after an hour, she could stay quiet any more. She let out a little whimper, but over Hermione's shoulder, he cast a very weak cheering charm, and she started to smile and giggle.  
  
  
  
If only Hermione would smile and giggle, thought Harry.   
  
  
  
Harry wondered whether she would be all right to start her defence against the dark arts lessons tomorrow, but knew better than to ask. Hermione would rather face a Hungarian Horntail than miss teaching a lesson.  
  
  
  
It made Harry smile to know that somewhere, deep down, Hermione Granger was still there.  
  
  
  
But after a while he had to leave her to Daisy, and return to his office, to see his lesson plan, and to sleep.  
  
  
  
He wandered down the staircases, all the way to his office on the ground floor, where he opened the door and looked around. His office was certainly not spotless, but it was a lot cleaner than Hermione's.  
  
  
  
He sat down at his desk, pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, and began to read his timetable. The start of term wasn't very busy for him, his first lesson with the first years was at the beginning of October, it was the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, and his Gryffindor and Slytherin lesson would take place on the seventh of October.  
  
  
  
He was just about to start circling the trial dates, and planning his first lessons, when he heard a knock on his door.  
  
  
  
'Come in.' he said, wondering what Hermione wanted now. He looked down at his timetable again, about to start colour coding.  
  
  
  
There was no noise, until Harry heard someone clearing their throat. He looked up, and saw a small boy – no bigger than a first year – and a young girl.  
  
  
  
'Hello Mr Potter … Sir.' Said the boy, somewhat nervously. 'I … my … our names a-a-are … um- er …' Aaron seemed to have temporarily forgotten his name. Faith looked a bit shocked too, but Harry guessed she could obviously keep her head in a situation.  
  
  
  
'My name's Faith, and that idiot over there is Aaron.'  
  
  
  
Aaron seemed to regain a bit of sense, when he heard her calling him an idiot.  
  
  
  
'I am not an idiot! I'm just – a bit …' but he never got to finish his sentence, because Harry interrupted him.  
  
  
  
'I'm sorry, but can I just ask what you're doing here?' both of their mouths hung open, and they looked at each other, until finally Aaron seemed to think of something.  
  
  
  
'We, er, we wanted to know about the Slytherin quidditch trials.'   
  
  
  
'Slytherin, eh?' he said, and again, checked his timetable. 'You'd be on the – seventh of October. Is that okay? Right, I suppose you'd better go back to bed then.' On thinking twice Harry suddenly realised – what [I]were[/I] these students doing out of bed? But he didn't dare make a point of it, as he cast his mind back to the mirror of erised, and the discovery of four fire-breathing dragons.   
  
  
  
'We were kind of hoping for some tips.' Said the girl, Faith.  
  
  
  
Tips?! Though Harry.  
  
  
  
'Okay then,' he said, 'first of all, tell me what year you're in.'  
  
  
  
'First.' said Aaron.  
  
  
  
'And you?' said Harry, nodding to Faith.  
  
  
  
'First.' she said.  
  
  
  
'And you didn't think to speak to your prefect? Or your quidditch captain?' they shook their heads. Harry wouldn't usually have been so brash with students, but they had caught him on an off day. Hermione, and her problem, was still going round in Harry's mind. 'Well,' he said, 'I suggest you go and ask them first, they'll tell you everything you need to know.'  
  
  
  
Harry didn't know whether it was his imagination or not, but it seemed to him that they both looked like they were doing some very quick thinking.  
  
  
  
'But sir,' began Faith, and Harry didn't bother to correct her, 'what broom are we supposed to ride? Like a Thunderbolt ZX or something?'  
  
  
  
Harry saw Aaron turn around to his friend with wide eyes, and nudge her in the side. Harry distinctly felt that he was being taken for a ride.  
  
  
  
'Are you serious?' he asked the two students.  
  
'Deadly.' said Faith, in a tone that suggested she was anything but.  
  
  
  
'Hmm.' said Harry, rubbing his forehead. They were Slytherins, weren't they? Why hadn't he thought of it before?! He recognised the girl, she had been sitting with the crowd that hadn't been clapping him at the feast – not that he wanted to be clapped or anything. 'have you been reading Floella Skeeter?' he asked them, eyeing them warily.  
  
  
  
'No!' said Aaron, 'who's she?'  
  
  
  
'Who knows?!' Faith said to him, but Harry could see an untrustworthy glint in her eye, that he could see in the boy. He'd have to watch her in future.  
  
  
  
Stop it - he reminded himself – I'm making judgements already!   
  
  
  
'That's good then.' he said, still not sure over who was telling the truth 'and I can safely say you won't be riding on Thunderclap ZX's'' he said, shuddering at the thought of sixty or so students flying around on out of control broomsticks, and him just standing there covering his head and shouting!   
  
  
  
'Er … sir?' asked Aaron.  
  
  
  
'Yes, Aaron.'  
  
  
  
'Can I have your autograph, sir?'  
  
  
  
Harry hesitated. This was [I]not[/I] the kind of thing he liked doing, but he supposed it was only one student. He quickly grabbed a piece of parchment and scrawled a signature, then handed it over.  
  
  
  
'Try asking your quidditch captain.' he said to them, and hurried them out of the door, and they nodded uncertainly. 'Oh yes…' he said, not believing what he was about to say, 'try not to walk about at night, will you?' 


	11. A genius in the making

A/N: AARON POV  
  
*  
  
Faith and Aaron ran back down the corridor, Faith giggling stupidly.  
  
  
  
'Shush!' said Aaron, putting his finger on his lips.  
  
  
  
Faith put her hand on her mouth, and just grinned instead. Aaron followed her all the way back down the corridors, that she had lead him through on the way there.  
  
  
  
'He seemed kind of moody about something, didn't he? He seems kind of cute.' said Faith.  
  
  
  
'You like him, don't you?' asked Aaron, incredulously.  
  
  
  
Faith turned her head away timidly.  
  
  
  
'Faith! You've only met him once! [I]And[/I] he's twenty-six, way older than you!'  
  
  
  
'Yeah, do you think I don't know that?' said Faith, smiling, 'but I can still say he's cute, can't I?! ' She paused. 'But don't you think of telling anyone, will you?'  
  
  
  
Aaron shook his head. 'of course not. What were you going on about in there, asking if we were going to ride Thunderclap ZX's? They're an international standard broomstick!'  
  
  
  
'Are they?' said Faith, looking only mildly surprised. 'I know I'd heard of them somewhere. I'm not really into quidditch and all of that, it's not really my scene.'  
  
  
  
A gaped, but Faith looked calm, as if saying that "quidditch isn't really my scene" was something you heard every day.  
  
  
  
'What?!' Aaron shouted, but then remembered to keep his voice down. 'Why are you … how did you … how can you [I]not[/I] be into quidditch?'  
  
  
  
Faith shrugged. 'I don't know, it's just something that I never really got into. I've been to a couple of matches, but they all just seem boring to me.'  
  
  
  
Aaron shook his head in disbelief, muttering his astonishment under his breath.  
  
  
  
Faith nudged him in the ribs, and whispered. 'We're here. Tarkus binihil.'  
  
  
  
The door to the common room opened, and Aaron and Faith entered, to find themselves facing an incredibly irate looking Snape.  
  
Aaron froze. He was for it now. Faith giggled, possibly from fear.  
  
  
  
'And what,' said Snape, 'would you two first years, be doing out of bed?'  
  
  
  
'I … um … we … um …' began Faith.  
  
  
  
'Silence.' snapped Snape. 'I want to hear it from you, Mr Bulstrode.'  
  
  
  
Aaron gulped, maybe, if he just told the truth, he'd be okay. Faith was looking at him in a funny way, as if she was trying to tell him something, but he couldn't make out what she was trying to say.  
  
  
  
'We went to see …' Aaron stopped. Faith was poking him sharply – and repeatedly – in the back, as if telling him to stop. He turned around. 'What?'  
  
  
  
'N – nothing.' said Faith.  
  
  
  
'Tell me.' said Snape threateningly.  
  
  
  
'We went to see, Mr Potter – Sir.' Snape's expression blackened. Instead of looking understanding, Snape was now looking daggers at Aaron. Aaron thought he had better explain. 'We only went to ask him about quidditch professor –'  
  
  
  
Aaron heard a cough come from behind him that sounded decidedly like 'Shut up!'  
  
  
  
'You should do what she says,' Snape said to Aaron, 'and shut up.'  
  
  
  
Aaron closed his mouth abruptly.  
  
  
  
'No student – and that includes you, Miss Gettherd, not just Mr 'I'm on my last chance but who gives a damn' here – should be walking around the school at night. It is expressly forbidden. [I]you[/I], Mr Bulstrode, were already on your last chance, what [I]were[/I] you thinking? And leading Miss Gettherd along with you, that was just disgraceful. I don't like to take points from my own house, but I'm going to have to take ten points away for you Miss Gettherd, and you will receive a detention. Faith bowed her head.  
  
  
  
You …' he turned to Aaron. 'You, are in very serious trouble. Go to bed, Miss Gettherd.' Faith took one last look at Aaron before she departed up the girl's staircase. When she was safely out of earshot, Snape turned to Aaron.  
  
  
  
'You.' he began, 'are trouble.'  
  
  
  
'I'm not!' protested Aaron, 'I'm just having a bad day …'  
  
  
  
'You're not having a bad day, you are causing trouble, deliberately.' Snape was beginning to look really angry. 'I give you one chance already, but what do you do – you abuse it! I don't mind a student with a little bit of attitude, who likes a swot? But you are either a troublemaker or just plain stupid.'  
  
  
  
'I'm [I]not[/I] a troublemaker!' interjected Aaron.  
  
  
  
'Then you must be stupid, and I suggest you go and find your place in Hufflepuff.'  
  
  
  
Aaron scowled, that was a bit unfair! But he decided not to push his luck by saying so. Snape breathed in sharply, and his – rather large, Aaron noticed – nostrils dilated.  
  
  
  
'Don't scowl at me, Mr Bulstrode, or you will be in even more trouble than you already are.'  
  
  
  
'I didn't mean to cross any lines …'  
  
  
  
'CROSS ANY LINES!?' shouted Snape, 'CROSS ANY LINES? You, Aaron, do not just cross the line, you cross it, turn around, spit on it, stamp on it, tear it up and shoot it with a MACHINE GUN!!!' Snape's voice rose harshly towards the end of the sentence. 'your sister was brain-dead too, never followed the examples of the more intelligent students … after the first incident today, I thought I might have given you one more chance, but you most obviously exploit it!'  
  
  
  
Aaron looked at his shoe, the lace suddenly seemed very interesting.  
  
  
  
'And then you add insult to the wound, by telling me that you went to see [I]Harry Potter![/I] What do you have to say about yourself?'  
  
  
  
'I'm very shoe … sorry! I meant sorry!' Aaron knew he'd just made another mistake.  
  
  
  
'Well then. If you're shoe is more interesting than hearing what you've done wrong, then I suggest your punishment will be extended.'  
  
  
  
Aaron couldn't believe it, [I]punishment … extended?[/I]  
  
  
  
'You will lose ten points from Slytherin, which I believe puts us twenty points into the minor. Students will be notified of who lost those points. You will receive a detention, and you will not attend the Slytherins first flying lesson on the seventh of October.'  
  
  
  
Snape turned sharply, and departed from the common in a swish of cloak, leaving Aaron standing in the middle of the room, staring at the fire.  
  
  
  
It was all going wrong – all of it.  
  
  
  
He didn't walk up the staircase, he didn't feel like going to bed at all. Instead, he traipsed over to one of the carved chairs by the fire, and sat down. He leaned forward, to put his elbows on his knees and his forehead in his hands.  
  
  
  
Why was it all going wrong? Why here, of all places? He hadn't [I]meant[/I] to do anything wrong. All right, so maybe he shouldn't have tried to make the food appear at his plate, or even gone to see Harry Potter, but Snape seemed to have a total overreaction.  
  
  
  
Why had his face darkened so much when Aaron had mentioned Harry? After a moment of thought, Aaron knew he would have to try and bargain with Snape; offer to take another detention, or something.  
  
  
  
He couldn't miss his first flying lesson, he just [I]couldn't![/I] He had to be good at something, he had to make himself good at something, he had to make an impact.  
  
  
  
If anyone asked about his mother, he would have to say she was dead. If anyone asked about his father, he would have to say that he didn't know who he was.   
  
  
  
He didn't know if he was pureblood or halfblood, he could have been half-Neanderthal for all he knew. All he knew was that his mother was supposedly stupid, along with everyone else on the Bulstrode side of the family, hardly anything to boast about.  
  
  
  
He would have to make his own way, make his own reputation. He supposed that if no one knew his parents, he was starting on a clean slate with everyone. Everyone, that was, apart from Snape.  
  
  
  
Look on the bright side – he told himself – you've made two great friends, if Faith would forgive him, and he still had people to meet.  
  
  
  
He looked at his old – and sometimes very unreliable – watch. The face said it was eleven-thirty.  
  
  
  
Right, he thought, he would go to bed now, before the next day started. At least, if it was a new day, he could start again with everyone; and technically speaking, tomorrow was the first day, so he could make a new impression. Today was just a kind of prologue – a very bad prologue.  
  
  
  
He climbed the left staircase, and counted the doorways, until he finally found the sixteenth one up. He opened the door, where he was greeted by silence. The whole room was silent, bar a dreadful snoring that was coming from one of the beds.  
  
  
  
He approached the only bed that didn't have the curtains drawn, his. Hebe was quietly curled up at the end, purring in her sleep. When she heard Aaron walk to the bed, she raised her head, opened one sleepy eye, gave a small mew and went softly back to sleep.  
  
  
  
Aaron changed into his pyjamas, and lay back in his bed, pulling the covers right up to his chin. They were green velvet, as were the hangings, which were delicately hung on an ornate silver frame, which surrounded the bed.  
  
  
  
He shut his eyes, and as he thought about the new start he would be making tomorrow, waves of darkness lapped over him, and he drifted into a deep sleep.  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
The next morning, Aaron woke to boy's voices.  
  
  
  
'Wake up Aaron, it's the first day!'  
  
  
  
Aaron opened his bleary eyes, and saw two boys standing in front of him, Ben and Copper.  
  
  
  
'Good morning, sleeping beauty.' joked Ben, and Copper laughed.   
  
  
  
'Hurry up Aaron, it's the first day, and you've got a beautiful girl waiting downstairs in the common room!'   
  
  
  
Aaron swung his legs out of bed. 'Which one?' he asked.  
  
  
  
'Ooh, he's getting c0kcy now! Which one …'  
  
  
  
'No, I mean is it Winter or Faith?' he asked. He secretly hoped it was Faith, he liked them both the same, as they had only met the previous day, but he would have rather seen Faith at that moment, as he needed to know if she still liked him.  
  
  
  
Ben and Copper looked at each other. 'Is Faith the one with the blonde hair?'   
  
  
  
'No, black hair.' said Aaron.  
  
  
  
Copper nodded, 'well in that case, it's Winter. Come on Ben!'  
  
  
  
Copper and Ben departed from the dorm, and Aaron glanced round his hangings, to see whether Godfrey or Ike were in the room, they weren't.  
  
  
  
'Phew!' said Aaron, and carried on changing into his robes. When he was changed, he left the room, and went downstairs to the common room, where he saw Winter.  
  
  
  
'Hi!' she said cheerily, 'have a good time last night?'  
  
  
  
'Don't ask.' groaned Aaron, 'I can't really explain all that happened, but let's just say that Faith and I have landed ourselves in detention, taken Slytherin twenty points into the minus,' Winter was looking horrified, 'and I'm going to miss our first flying lesson.'  
  
  
  
'Oh Aaron,' she said, 'I'm so sorry.'  
  
  
  
'It doesn't matter!' he replied, 'I'm still smiling.' He stretched his mouth into a big grin, just to prove that he wasn't lying.  
  
  
  
He and Winter left the common room, and tried to find their way through the many underground passages, so they could leave the cold dungeons and get to the great hall.  
  
  
  
When they arrived in the Great Hall, breakfast had been going on for a while, and lots of the plates were only half-full.  
  
  
  
'Here,' said Winter, as they arrived at the Slytherin table, 'eat this,' and reached over to get something for Aaron to eat.  
  
  
  
But Aaron retched when he saw what she was going to give him.  
  
  
  
'No!' he cried, making several people stare.  
  
  
  
Winter looked puzzled, 'but what have you got against pancakes?'  
  
  
  
'Everything,' said Aaron darkly, and picked up a piece of toast instead.  
  
  
  
Winter shook her head, and muttered something about "having it his way."  
  
  
  
Aaron looked down the table, looking for Faith, but was disappointed when he couldn't see her. He glanced at the staff table, and caught sight of Harry Potter, who he could have [I]sworn[/I] had been looking at him.  
  
  
  
After a while, Aaron received his timetable from a prefect, and he saw that first he had charms with Professor Clearwater, followed by various other lessons.  
  
  
  
Winter noticed him looking at his timetable, and pointed to one of the lessons.  
  
  
  
'Look, we've got History of Magic later, someone told me that was really good.'  
  
  
  
He pulled another piece of toast from the rack, 'I dunno, I wouldn't have thought history would be all that exciting, would you?'  
  
  
  
Winter shrugged, 'I don't know, it's just something someone told me.'  
  
  
  
They sat in silence for a few more minutes, glancing at the passing ghost, until finally Aaron plucked up the courage to ask the question he had been meaning to ask since he had first seen Winter that morning.  
  
  
  
'Have you seen Faith today?'  
  
  
  
Winter looked over to the staff table, avoiding Aaron's gaze, and then back to Aaron. 'I saw her this morning, but I don't know where she is now.' she said coldly.  
  
  
  
'Have you fallen out with her?' asked Aaron, Winter did not respond. 'Winter, you've only been here a day! You can't go falling out with people just like that!'  
  
  
  
'I didn't say we had fallen out.' she said, 'let's just say that she's not the kind of girl I like.'   
  
  
  
Aaron shook his head, and didn't question her any further. She grinned at him, and collected up her things.  
  
  
  
'Come on, or we'll be late for charms.'  
  
  
  
They arrived in the charms corridor, outside their classroom, they were five minutes early. But so, it would seem, was everyone else.   
  
  
  
There was a big huddle outside the classroom door, with Godfrey and Ike dawdling around at the back, as if trying not to look too keen, ignoring the fact that they were five minutes early.  
  
  
  
'Clear the door please, clear the doorway.'   
  
  
  
Everyone turned around as they heard Professor Clearwater's shoes clacking on the flag stoned floor, and heard her brisk voice calling out for them to move.  
  
  
  
Aaron saw that she had long, curly hair, and was quite young, compared to many of the teachers, about thirty-ish.  
  
  
  
She manoeuvred through the crowd of students and entered the classroom, indicating for the others to follow her.  
  
  
  
Aaron walked into the dim classroom, looking around him in amazement. There was so many amazing things he needed to see, all in one classroom!   
  
  
  
One of his friends sat next to him, who had brought his rat with him, Aaron was suddenly glad he had left Hebe in the care of someone else that day.   
  
  
  
He took a seat in the back row; he found that sitting in front of the teacher was far too in-your-face. Professor Clearwater cleared her throat and stood in front of the class.  
  
  
  
'Good morning first years, and welcome all to charms. My name is Professor Clearwater and I will be your teacher. Before we start though, you must learn a little bit about the subject.  
  
  
  
Close to transfiguration, charms is one of the most difficult subjects you can learn whilst here at Hogwarts. If you do not concentrate, it will be as useful as being in a divination lesson, without the gift. You must concentrate, persevere, and try hard in charms, and it is my job to make sure you work to the best of your ability.  
  
  
  
For our first lesson, we will be learning the Revealer Charm. Would you please all get out your wands.'  
  
  
  
Aaron got out his wand, the offending wand that had started the slippery slope yesterday.  
  
  
  
'Now, the Revealer charm can have two purposes, and can be quite complex – if you get it wrong. I hate to tell you this, but I'm going to start you all off on one of the more difficult charms. The first use it to reveal something to you, such as writing, written in invisible ink. The second use for the charm is to lift the lid on a box, or to flip something over on the ground, it's very good for taking precautions. Let me demonstrate the first use.'  
  
  
  
She took out a clear quill from the desk, filled with a clear ink inside. She took out a piece of parchment and wrote something on it, that nobody could see. She held out the piece of paper for the class to see.  
  
  
  
'You can see nothing on the piece of paper.' the class mumbled their agreement.  
  
  
  
She waved her wand at the piece of paper, in a double swirl movement and shouted 'Quirimus!'  
  
  
  
Slowly, something began to appear on the picture, in bright red ink. It said, "Never tickle a sleeping dragon"  
  
  
  
All too loudly, Aaron said, 'sounds like good advice if you ask me.'  
  
  
  
Professor Clearwater turned to him. 'It's Aaron isn't it? Or Thomas?'/  
  
  
  
'Aaron,' he said, defiantly.  
  
  
  
'Well,' she said, 'can anyone tell Aaron why you think I chose to write those words?'  
  
  
  
Winter raised her arm high into the air, and waved her hand.  
  
  
  
'Yes, Winter?'  
  
  
  
'It's the school motto, Professor.'  
  
  
  
Professor Clearwater smiled, 'very good, ten points to Slytherin. Yes, draco dormiens nunquam titilandus – translated as never tickle a sleeping dragon – is the Hogwarts school motto.'  
  
  
  
Aaron looked to Winter, who was looking smug at his side. 'I never knew we had a motto! And … thanks; you just rescued the ten points I lost.  
  
  
  
'S'okay,' she said smiling, turning back to the front, 'anytime.'  
  
  
  
Aaron caught sight of Faith, on the other side of the room, looking at Winter whispering to him. When she saw him she smiled and gave a small wave.  
  
  
  
'Now, to demonstrate the other method, I will have to use something else.'  
  
  
  
She reached under her desk and brought out a small box. It was pretty, silver in colour, and encrusted with jewels. She pointed her wand at it, rotated it in the swirling movement, said "quirimus" and the box began to open slowly, revealing its contents to her, bit by bit.  
  
  
  
She lifted her head to the class, 'did anyone see anything different this time?'  
  
  
  
Winter lifted her hand.  
  
  
  
'Yes, Winter?'  
  
  
  
'Did you use a different tone of voice?' she asked tentatively.  
  
  
  
Professor Clearwater made a so-so face. 'I might have,' she said, 'but that's not the answer I was looking for. Did anyone else notice something?'  
  
  
  
Aaron raised his hand, he had an idea, and he hoped it was right, because he could see Godfrey and co looking at him from the corner of his eye, snig gering about something.  
  
  
  
'Well, the first time you did it, you kind of twirled you hand this way,' he moved his hand to show the direction he meant, 'and the second time you went the other way.'  
  
  
  
Professor Clearwater grinned at Aaron. 'Well, we seem to have a very observant student here, don't we? Yes, that's right, and you can have ten points to Slytherin, for good observation.'  
  
  
  
Soon, after some practice without wands, little boxes, pieces of parchment and quills with invisible ink in them were handed out to each one of the Slytherins, for them to practice.  
  
  
  
Aaron could hear Godfrey, even though they were at opposite ends of the room.  
  
  
  
'Ooh, we seem to have a very observant student here, don't we.' He mocked, and Ike burst into stupid guffaws.  
  
  
  
'Ignore them,' muttered Winter.  
  
  
  
Aaron took out his wand and was just practicing the twirl movement, when Winter looked over at him and said, 'you've got very delicate hands.'  
  
  
  
'Excuse me?' said Aaron, taken aback. He wasn't sure whether to take "delicate hands" as a compliment or not.  
  
  
  
'Sorry, but you do!'  
  
  
  
'Yes – but delicate …' Aaron grimaced at the [I]girly[/I] word.  
  
  
  
'Okay, you have spindly fingers, what do you want me to say?' Winter smiled, 'silly masculine pride … but just look,' she took his hand, 'you've got really thin fingers, you could be a pianist, or an artist!'  
  
  
  
Aaron laughed. 'I can't draw!' he said, 'and I can't even play a drum, let alone a piano.'  
  
  
  
'Well, it was a theory.' Winter shrugged. 'Are you going to have a go at this spell?'   
  
  
  
Aaron nodded, and picked up his quill and paper. It looked hard, people were trying around them, but no one seemed to have mastered it yet.  
  
  
  
Aaron and Winter glanced at each other, each of them holding their own parchment, and together they reached a silent agreement. Aaron would write something on his paper, for Winter do decipher herself.  
  
  
  
Aaron grabbed his quill, and began to write on the paper, soon, his message was written, and the two swapped papers.  
  
  
  
'I'll go first,' said Aaron, and took his wand in his left hand, placing the quill on the desk. He swirled it two times to the right, and said, 'quirimus.'  
  
  
  
Aaron and Winter watched, amazed, as words appeared on Winter's paper. He had done it – first time too! – and he watched the red words appear on the paper.  
  
  
  
"So tell me about it, Tom."  
  
  
  
He turned around to look at Winter, wondering what she meant.  
  
  
  
'Tell you about what? And it's Aaron.' he said stubbornly.  
  
  
  
'I know,' she said, 'but Tom kinda sounded more snappy, to go with the message. You don't have to tell me.'  
  
  
  
'I can't tell you,' said Aaron morosely.  
  
  
  
Winter looked puzzled. 'Why?'  
  
  
  
'I don't know.'  
  
  
  
Suddenly Professor Clearwater called out from the front of the classroom. 'Has anyone managed to master the spell yet? Either ways?'  
  
  
  
'I have,' said Aaron – albeit somewhat sheepishly – and raised his hand. He could practically [I]hear[/I] Godfrey's snickers from the other side of the classroom.  
  
  
  
'Would you be prepared to demonstrate? Do you think you could do it again?'   
  
  
  
Aaron nodded nervously, even though he was not sure he could repeat it. Professor Clearwater wrote something on a piece of parchment at the front of the room, and took it back to Aaron.  
  
  
  
'You have mastered this spell, yes?' Aaron nodded, as he hadn't tried the other one yet.  
  
  
  
He raised his wand, and pointed it at the piece of parchment. 'quirimus,' he said, and once again, writing in red ink began to appear. Winter started at him incredulously, he couldn't believe it, it [I]must[/I] be a fluke!  
  
  
  
As the writing appeared, Aaron read the message it revealed, and smiled. It read: "five points to Slytherin."  
  
  
  
The rest of the lesson passed without incident. Aaron learned how to master the other spell too, and helped Winter with it. She seemed very good at reeling facts from a textbook, but less confident in the practical tasks.  
  
  
  
Some other students picked up the charm, but some – like Ike – didn't pick it up at all; and some – like Godfrey – took until the very last minute to master it.  
  
  
  
When it was time for the lesson to end, Aaron walked out of the room with Winter, deciding that he liked Professor Clearwater, and he liked charms – very much. 


	12. Ron and Hermione

A/N: HARRY POV  
  
*  
  
Harry woke up with a jolt, he had been dreaming.  
  
  
  
In his dream he had been walking down a street, a street he hadn't recognised, and yet seemed so familiar. He came to a house, which again, he had never seen before, but looked amazingly familiar. Inside the house he had met a man, who he [I]had[/I] seen before, but couldn't for the life of him remember his name, he couldn't even remember the colour of his hair.  
  
  
  
Dreams. They plagued his life.  
  
  
  
He reached for his glasses, which were on his side table, and clumsily fumbled with them, putting them on his face.  
  
  
  
It was the first day of term, and it was time for his first session with the Ravenclaw chasers, this afternoon.  
  
  
  
'Good,' he said to himself, 'plenty of time to prepare.'  
  
  
  
But he didn't mean to prepare for his first quidditch session, he was preparing for something else, something – and he dared not even think it – [I]more[/I] important than anyone's chasers.  
  
  
  
He picked up his robes, and got dressed, then before he went down to breakfast, he got out some parchment, and a quill.  
  
  
  
[I]Dear Ron,  
  
  
  
How are you? Sorry I haven't been to see you since just before the start of term, I've been a little tied up, as has Hermione. Daisy is fine, just a little noisy. Hermione is also fine, just a little quiet. I don't know if she has written to you, she said she has, but anyway.  
  
  
  
I hope Romilly isn't still making you work the hardest. Just because you took over the commentary because a delinquent French boy stupefied her, she shouldn't be bitter … I hope they paid you for that commentary! If she is, keep your chin up, I'll have one of my contacts fire her. (You know I am joking.)  
  
  
  
Anyway, what I am writing about, I'll get to the point.   
  
  
  
I was wondering if you wanted to go for dinner sometime, soon. How about at 'The Carving Knife'? a week on Saturday. Can you make it? I'm paying, my treat, as I haven't seen you in ages.  
  
  
  
Bye,  
  
  
  
Harry.[/I]  
  
  
  
Harry then proceeded to write an [I]almost[/I] identical letter to Hermione, not mentioning Ron's name, as he had not mentioned to Ron that Hermione would be there.  
  
  
  
The next week would pass quickly for Harry, as he received owls accepting his offer for dinner from the – both unsuspecting – Ron and Hermione.  
  
  
  
And as Harry walked to The Carving Knife that next Saturday, he began to think about what he was about to do.  
  
  
  
He knew he was stabbing in the dark about what was wrong, but what could they possibly fight about?   
  
  
  
Over the years they had known each other, they had fought for at least half the time, about what seemed to be the smallest things, and been the best of friends the rest of the time.  
  
  
  
Soon enough, he found himself standing in front of the small pub, and as he entered the landlord, Fink, greeted him.  
  
  
  
It had been a place he had discovered only a few weeks before, when looking for a place to eat with Hermione. He knew that you shouldn't get put off by the – somewhat violent sounding – name, it really was a perfectly nice place.  
  
  
  
Inside, there was a bar and lots of small, round tables, where you could eat.   
  
  
  
The room was full of candles, they hung in mid air and sat on the tables; although Fink had confided in Harry, towards the end of the summer, that the only reason they had all the candles is because they had a lack of money, not really to create a romantic atmosphere.  
  
  
  
'Evening Harry,' said Fink, 'haven't seen you around for a while.'   
  
  
  
'Well, now I've got a proper job, I can't be getting plastered every night, can I?' Fink laughed appreciatively.  
  
  
  
He wiped the bar with his cloth, and indicated for Harry to sit down on a stool. 'Oi! Tarkus! Serve the other customers will you? I've got Harry here.'   
  
  
  
'No it's okay Fink,' said Harry, 'I'm waiting for Ron and Hermione.'   
  
  
  
Fink suddenly pointed to the entrance doors behind Harry, with his eyebrows raised. Harry turned around, and saw Hermione entering. Right – he thought – this is where it starts.  
  
  
  
Harry prayed everything would go right, he really did.  
  
  
  
'Hi!' Hermione greeted him with a smile, 'I left Daisy with Professor McGonagall, she seemed only too happy to take her for a couple of hours.'  
  
  
  
'Glad you could come,' said Harry, trying to keep the nervousness out of his voice, 'here, let's go and sit down, shall we?'  
  
  
  
He put his arm around her shoulders, and started to lead her to one of the tables.  
  
  
  
'Er Harry,' called Fink from the bar, 'the tables for three are round that way.'  
  
  
  
Hermione looked puzzled. 'Table for three? But no one else is coming!'  
  
  
  
Harry led Hermione away even faster, silently cursing Fink. 'Well,' said Harry, desperately searching for an excuse, 'he didn't know Daisy wasn't going to be here, did he?'  
  
  
  
He ushered Hermione over to a table (which happened to be for four – he hoped she wouldn't notice) and sat down rapidly.   
  
  
  
'So, er, what do you want to eat?'  
  
  
  
Hermione glanced at the menu. Over her shoulder, Harry saw the door open, and Ron walked in. he took one look at Harry, and smiled, but it soon faded when he saw Hermione.  
  
  
  
'What's she doing here?' he mouthed.  
  
  
  
Hermione seemed to notice that Harry was casting odd looks over her shoulder, and turned around. Her face when she saw Ron turned from puzzled, to stormy. She looked from Harry to Ron, several times, before leaning over to Harry.  
  
  
  
'Harry,' she whispered, an odd gleam in her eye, 'what the [I]hell[/I] are you playing at?'  
  
  
  
Harry got up. 'Ron, Hermione, sit down!' there was a look of feigned pleasure on his face.  
  
  
  
They did, although Harry noticed that the space between the two friends was larger than usual.  
  
  
  
Hermione looked decidedly uncomfortable. 'I think I have to go,' she said, 'Daisy might -'  
  
  
  
'No, you'll sit down,' said Harry.  
  
  
  
'No, she can go, I don't mind,' said Ron, although Harry noticed he seemed more uneasy than angry.  
  
  
  
'She'll stay,' said Harry firmly. 'I know you two are fighting about something, and I'm not going to let [I]either[/I] of you go until you tell me.'  
  
  
  
The three friends sat in silence. Harry was looking at Ron and Hermione, Hermione was looking at the menu, and Ron was just looking at the opposite wall, with very red ears.  
  
  
  
Finally, Hermione spoke up. 'There's nothing wrong.'  
  
  
  
'I don't believe you.'  
  
  
  
Ron looked at Harry. 'She's right, there's nothing wrong.'  
  
  
  
'Don't lie to me!'  
  
  
  
Ron got up, and this time Harry didn't stop him. 'That's it Harry, there's nothing. Don't get in the middle of something that doesn't even exist.'  
  
  
  
He got up, and walked out of the exit, and Harry didn't protest. He wasn't going to tell him anything. Harry shook his head, and looked to Hermione. Surprisingly, he found that she was glaring at him.  
  
  
  
'Don't you get it Harry?' she said, 'don't you get it?'   
  
  
  
'Get what?' asked Harry, puzzled.  
  
  
  
'It's Ron,' said Hermione, suddenly avoiding Harry's gaze, 'I … I think I love him.'   
  
  
  
Harry didn't move. He just sat there, staring.  
  
  
  
'What?' he said, after a while, 'say that again?'  
  
  
  
'I knew you'd hate me,' said Hermione, preparing to get up, 'there's no point me staying –'  
  
  
  
'No,' said Harry. 'Stay. Say it again.'  
  
  
  
Hermione sat down, and said, calmly and collectively, 'I think I love Ron.'  
  
  
  
'I thought –' Harry spluttered, 'I thought you two were fighting!'  
  
  
  
'No,' said Hermione, 'we did enough of that at school.'  
  
  
  
'I had no idea Hermione, I'm so sorry …'  
  
  
  
Harry leant forward and put his hand on hers, on the table.  
  
  
  
'What are you going to do?' he asked.  
  
  
  
'I don't know!' she said, and Harry could hear a break in her voice.  
  
  
  
'Don't cry,' said Harry reassuringly, 'don't cry. But Hermione, I don't understand, why didn't you want to see him?'  
  
  
  
'I only didn't want to see him, because I know he knows. Every time I get near him … he knows, I just know it, he can tell.'  
  
  
  
Hermione looked dejected, but Harry was glad. [I]Now[/I] he knew what was wrong, [I]now[/I] he knew what to do …  
  
  
  
'He hates me,' she said despairingly.  
  
  
  
'No, Hermione, he doesn't hate you. He loves you.'  
  
  
  
'What?'  
  
  
  
'You mean you hadn't noticed?'  
  
  
  
'No! Since when did you know? Did he tell you?'  
  
  
  
'No,' said Harry, 'but it's been obvious, ever since fourth year in particular.' Hermione's expression brightened noticeably, and Harry continued. 'I don't know – you two! I despair …'   
  
  
  
And Hermione's face broke into the first grin, that Harry had seen her make that term. 


	13. Dark Traits

A/N: AARON POV  
  
*  
  
'I see that Mr Bulstrode had – yet again – managed to perfect his potion within the set time, I feel compelled to award Slytherin fifteen points.'  
  
  
  
Snape smiled at Aaron, and nodded at his potion.  
  
  
  
'Very good, Aaron,' he said.  
  
  
  
'Thank you,' said Aaron.  
  
  
  
As Snape returned to his desk, Aaron heard a furious tirade of whispering burst out behind him.  
  
  
  
'[I]Fifteen points?[/I] Just for one measly potion?'  
  
  
  
Aaron sighed. It was Oregan Finn and his Gryffindor friends, Smokey Blackdawn and Jennifer Wood. Every time he gained some more points for Slytherin, they seemed to object.  
  
  
  
'I'm sorry, Mr Finn, but do you have something to say?' asked Snape.  
  
  
  
'No professor,' said Oregan, and Aaron saw him throw a dark look at Smokey and Jennifer.  
  
  
  
Aaron had never had any reason to dislike anyone, especially the Gryffindors – he had wanted to be one of them, and still did – but they seemed to believe that there was some sort of house divide.  
  
  
  
Winter turned around to face them. 'It's not Aaron's fault if he's brainy!' she hissed.  
  
  
  
Oregan stared at her. 'Did we [I]say[/I] it was his fault? It's that stupid house … thingy – of yours, Snape. Can't you see he favours you?'  
  
  
  
'He's done every potion perfectly, every charm perfectly, every transfiguration … just name something he can't do, he [I]deserves[/I] those points,' Winter took his defence.  
  
  
  
'Yeah,' retorted Oregan, 'but [I]fifteen[/I] points …'  
  
  
  
It was nearly four weeks into the start of term, and Winter was right, Aaron was an exceptional student. It surprised many of the teachers that he was so amazing, for one, every Bulstrode they could remember had been as thick as two short planks, and for two, they wondered why he wasn't in Ravenclaw. Although, on Aaron's part, he was trying extra hard, in the hope that Snape would allow him to take his flying lesson, even though he had been restricted from going.  
  
  
  
But he had not been allowed to go, and was fast approaching the seventh of October, the date of the lesson, and although Snape was pleased with Aaron, he seemed no closer to letting him attend the class.  
  
  
  
The lesson ended, and although not all of the students had perfected their weed kill charm (to make your weeds shrivel up and die within a matter of seconds, containing essence of deadly nightshade and flesh eating slug slime).   
  
  
  
As the Gryffindors and Slytherins were packing up their things, Snape called Aaron over, to speak to him. Winter began to say something to Aaron, but was cut short by Faith.  
  
  
  
'I'll see you in the common room then Aaron.'  
  
  
  
'Okay,' Aaron answered, and Winter scowled and walked out with her head high.  
  
  
  
If anything was puzzling Aaron this term, it had to be the reaction Winter and Faith had had to each other.   
  
  
  
Every time Winter heard anything about Faith, she would go quietly cold and turn her head, until Aaron was forced to change the subject.  
  
  
  
And every time Aaron mentioned Winter to Faith, she would come much more to the point, and come straight out with, 'oh, don't talk to me about [I]her …[/I]'  
  
  
  
Neither of them would let Aaron in on what was wrong, even though both of them were his dearest friends; even though they were both completely different.  
  
  
  
Winter was the first one who had helped him, he doubted he would have managed to board the Hogwarts Express without her. Her hair was fluffy, and blond like his, and it was always slightly eccentrically out of control. She had icy blue eyes, but they were still warm, and kind, like her. She tried hard at what she did, and was clever, if not a genius like Aaron.  
  
  
  
Faith, on the other hand, was a different kettle of fish. Aaron immediately though of how much she'd hate to be described as a "kettle of fish". She had thick black hair, which reached to just below her neck. It was held back by a black Alice band, which showed her pale, sculptured face. She never seemed to have a hair out of place, although she was not vain, and it was glossy in the autumn sun. Her eyes were brown and doe-like, but not always kind like a doe's. She was not spiteful, but she stood up for what she thought, and was slightly – outspoken, at times.   
  
  
  
But still, neither of them would let onto what was wrong!  
  
  
  
As he thought this, the classroom emptied, and Snape beckoned Aaron over to his desk.  
  
  
  
'Professor?' said Aaron.  
  
  
  
'Yes,' said Snape, 'I need to speak to you Aaron, you don't have to rush off anywhere, do you?'  
  
  
  
'Well, I have defence against the dark arts next, with Professor Granger –'  
  
  
  
'Good!' Snape interjected, 'so you're not going anywhere then, well, I have a bit of good news for you.'  
  
  
  
Aaron smiled. Good news, that was okay then.  
  
  
  
'I'm sorry about the [I]terrible[/I] start you had, and I'm glad you had redeemed yourself from then. I have been receiving wonderful reports of you from other teachers, it would seem that we have a very bright student on our hands. How have you been doing in your lessons, in your opinion?' he looked at Aaron quizzically.  
  
  
  
Aaron didn't quite know what to say. 'Well … I try …' he said, uncertainly.  
  
  
  
'You certainly do try!' exclaimed Snape, 'I haven't heard a single bad report of you from one teacher! If you weren't in my house – because I [I]trust[/I] my students, you see, Aaron – I would have thought you were receiving help.'  
  
  
  
'I'm not!' said Aaron, 'I promise –'  
  
  
  
'I know,' said Snape, 'and I believe you, and that is why I think you deserve some sort of reward for it.'  
  
  
  
He waited for a response from Aaron, but he didn't know what to say.  
  
  
  
'I've decided to let you attend your first flying lesson on the seventh of October.'  
  
  
  
Aaron gasped. 'I … thank you, Professor, I …'  
  
  
  
'There [I]is[/I] one condition though,' said Snape, 'you must attend the quidditch trials in mid-October, no matter what Harry Potter about first years not usually being accepted.'  
  
  
  
'But,' began Aaron, 'I've never even flown before, I'm not sure I'd be very good …'  
  
  
  
Snape smiled. 'You seem to be good at everything else, I don't see why not flying, too. You could be a valuable addition to our team, a [I]valuable[/I] addition. You can go to defence against the darks arts now.'  
  
  
  
Aaron muttered his thanks one more time, and left the classroom, feeling as though he could walk on air.  
  
  
  
He entered Defence against the Dark Arts only ten minutes late, but obviously someone had told Professor Granger where he had been, as she only motioned for him to sit down, and didn't ask him any questions.  
  
  
  
Winter and Faith had taken up their usual positions at the back of the classroom. In this lesson, Aaron sat next to Winter, not Faith, which is probably the reason Faith had wanted to see him in the common room later. Then, he could tell her about the quidditch thing!  
  
  
  
Professor Granger stood at the front of the class. 'Can anyone please tell Aaron what I have told you?'  
  
  
  
Another Slytherin, Tarquin Mack put up his hand.   
  
  
  
'Yes, Tarquin?'  
  
  
  
'You said, that this week we will be continuing our study of dark traits, by looking at blood, some of the old family histories, and curses that were invented.'  
  
  
  
Aaron was confused, they were looking at blood what? Looking at the red stuff from your veins? If they were, Aaron wasn't all too sure he wanted to take part.  
  
  
  
'Um, Professor, what exactly do you mean, when you say we are looking at blood?' Aaron asked curiously.   
  
  
  
'I mean,' she said, 'that we will be looking at old family histories, of clans and groups during the old times of darkness … and the more recent.'  
  
  
  
Aaron looked around the class. What if anyone here had had ancestors who practised dark magic? It was at this point that he saw Godfrey shifting uncomfortably in his seat.  
  
  
  
Professor Granger, who had apparently not noticed this, continued to talk. 'Of course, the family names will remain anonymous. Although – I hasten to add – that most of the individuals we will cover are now dead, and we will mostly be covering clans.'  
  
  
  
Aaron smiled. [I]This[/I] topic sounded [I]interesting …[/I]   
  
  
  
They spent the rest of the lesson discussing different groups in general, and were told that they would be starting the topic for real in their next lesson.  
  
  
  
After they left the classroom, Faith joined Aaron, going back to the common room, while Winter lagged a few yards behind, talking to one of the other Slytherins.  
  
  
  
When they reached the common room Winter dashed off up the stairs, to the girls dorm.  
  
  
  
'She spends her life in there,' mocked Faith, 'you've got to wonder what she's hiding.'  
  
  
  
Aaron gave Faith a you-might-not-like-her-but-I-do sort of look, and she stopped talking. 


	14. Interlude

A/N: HARRY POV  
  
*  
  
Harry felt nervous. Until now, he hadn't dealt with any of the Slytherins, but today it was their first flying lesson, and he couldn't pinpoint why he felt so nervous.  
  
  
  
Don't be so stupid – he told himself – they're only a group of students.  
  
  
  
Last week, the lesson with the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs had gone brilliantly. There had been a few good flyers in their group, but most of them had been average. Which, he reminded himself, was still good.  
  
  
  
But this was the lesson he had been looking forward to, the Gryffindors and Slytherins, it brought back so many memories. Again, he told himself not to be biased.  
  
  
  
He took his Thunderclap ZX – which he had been fortunate enough to keep – and set of for the grounds outside. 


	15. In the wee small hours

A/N: AARON POV  
  
*  
  
It was the very early hours when Aaron woke up on the seventh of October, and still dark.  
  
  
  
Aaron loved it in the early morning, when the sky was between black and blue, it was at best as a dark mauve-ish colour.  
  
  
  
He felt best in the early hours of the morning, he didn't know why. He guessed it was such an eerie time of the day, or was it calm? Perhaps it was because it reminded him of his Millicent-free hours back at home (was it home?) but he didn't think so, he thought it was something else.  
  
  
  
Even Hebe slept peacefully at the foot of his bed.  
  
  
  
Today, the sky was a very dark mauve, and the earth was very peaceful.   
  
  
  
Just the way Aaron liked it.   
  
  
  
He poured a drink of water from to jug, and sipped it slowly, while gazing out of the window.  
  
  
  
One, lone star crossed the cloudy sky. Aaron knew they were only meteors burning up in the atmosphere, but he liked to always pretend otherwise.  
  
  
  
'I wish,' he murmured, 'I wish – no I [I]hope[/I] – that I will never end up like Millicent.' He didn't know what to wish for, but then he though of something. 'I wish that I won't make a fool of myself today. Ever.'  
  
  
  
He knew that ever was taking a bit far, but you could always wish, couldn't you? And you could always hope.  
  
  
  
Below in the grounds, he suddenly caught sight of something moving in the corner of his eye.  
  
  
  
But when he looked again, they had gone.  
  
  
  
He had been pretty sure it had been a person, actually, or something of around that height. On second thoughts, it could have just been a creature, straying to the edge of the forest, a centaur, perhaps.  
  
  
  
He walked over to the edge of his bed, and pulled a small slip of paper from the side. It told him that he and Faith would be attending detention in a fortnight from now, and they would be meeting Hagrid in the entrance hall.  
  
  
  
He hoped they wouldn't be entering the forest, but he didn't know what they would be doing. He had heard nasty things about that forest, [I]Very[/I] nasty things.  
  
  
  
Godfrey had [I]accidentally[/I] let slip – in the last defence against the darks arts lesson – that once even you-know-who had been in the forest.  
  
  
  
But what scared Aaron was that Professor Granger couldn't deny it.  
  
  
  
He saw something move again.  
  
  
  
He looked, but saw nothing there; he was [I]sure[/I] he had seen something. He shook his head, and went back to his thinking.  
  
  
  
Soon enough, the dark mauve sky soon turned from purple to blue, and the people in his dorm started to wake, Ben first.  
  
  
  
He stumbled clumsily out of bed, and smiled when he saw Aaron.  
  
  
  
'How long you been up?' he asked drowsily.  
  
  
  
'Hours,' replied Aaron, and on thinking, he realised that he actually had no idea how long he had been sitting there. 'Hours.'  
  
  
  
Ben got dressed, and after that seemed more awake.  
  
  
  
'I'm glad you friends with Faith, you know,' he said to Aaron.  
  
  
  
'You know Faith?'  
  
  
  
'I knew her, before … before Hogwarts. She's a great girl you know.'  
  
  
  
Aaron could feel foreboding; Ben seemed different.  
  
  
  
'Don't you mess her around.'  
  
  
  
Aaron was shocked, but tried to keep his surprise from his face. Was Ben threatening him? How well did he know Faith?  
  
  
  
Aaron looked up at him, from his post by the window. 'I won't mess her around,' he said, 'I wouldn't dream of it.'  
  
  
  
Bens face broke into a broad smile. 'Good man,' he said.   
  
  
  
But although he was grinning, Aaron felt slightly uneasy all that morning.   
  
  
  
The other members of Aaron's dorm woke at varying times that morning, but after Copper woke Aaron left pretty swiftly, for next it could only be Godfrey and Ike.  
  
  
  
At the breakfast table in the great hall, Faith was sitting there already. She moved over on the bench and patted the space next to her.  
  
  
  
'Good morning!' she said brightly.  
  
  
  
'Morning,' said Aaron, 'what're you so chirpy about?'  
  
  
  
'Does there have to be a reason?' she said. Aaron looked at her doubtfully. 'Okay, okay, so maybe I'm just looking forward to our first flying lesson …'  
  
  
  
She gave Aaron a sly look.  
  
  
  
'Faith! He's [I]about fifteen years older than you![/I]'  
  
  
  
Faith shrugged. 'Stranger things have happened.'  
  
  
  
But Aaron just didn't feel like eating. 'I've never flown on a broomstick before, and Snape wants me to try out! I bet I fall off my broom.'  
  
  
  
'Don't worry,' said Faith, 'we're only flying a few feet off the ground, so if you fall off the worst you can to is break a finger. Or a wrist.'  
  
  
  
Aaron gulped, Faith could really help sometimes.  
  
  
  
'Faith, I didn't know you knew Ben so well?' Faith turned her head sharply.  
  
  
  
'I don't know him well – I just … know him. Did he talk about me?' she asked.  
  
  
  
'Not really,' lied Aaron, 'he just – mentioned you.'  
  
  
  
The rest of breakfast passed without incident – apart from the fact that Aaron only saw Winter dash in for a couple of minutes, and then dash out again – and he and Faith walked out onto the grounds, to start the flying lesson.  
  
  
  
There were already some Gryffindors there, and broomsticks laid out on the ground, enough for all of them. 


	16. The fight

A/N: HARRY POV  
  
*  
  
Harry approached the group of first years from a distance, and it was a while before they noticed him, but when they did, there was a commotion.  
  
  
  
In fact, Harry thought, the commotion seemed to have started even [I]before[/I] he got there. Oh no. They were fighting!  
  
  
  
'Break it up!' Harry cried, striding over towards them, 'I said, pack it in!'  
  
  
  
The group turned their heads in unison, and stopped fighting. The students on the edge of the crowd backed away, revealing two girls in a tangle in the middle of the group.   
  
  
  
One of the girls had very thick, straight, black hair. There was a black Alice band on the ground nearby. The other girl was … the other girl was – Jennifer Wood!  
  
  
  
'Jennifer, what are you doing?' he asked her, 'and what is your name?' he said to the other girl.  
  
  
  
'Faith,' she said, getting up off the ground.  
  
  
  
'Well, Faith,' said Harry, 'and you, Jennifer, I expect more of you, both of you. I won't take any points from your houses, today. But you have been warned.'  
  
  
  
'But –' protested Jennifer, 'I didn't do anything, it was Oregan, and Faith, I never meant to …'   
  
  
  
'You've got off with a warning!' said Harry jovially, 'come now, don't make any trouble for yourself.' Jennifer smiled at Harry and went off to join Oregan and Smokey.  
  
  
  
'Right,' said Harry, 'now, let's begin this lesson properly. Everybody, I want you to step beside a broom, hold your wand hand out above it, and shout "up!" when I tell you.'  
  
  
  
All of the students stood next to their brooms, and put out their hands. They glanced at him expectantly.  
  
  
  
'Oh, right yes,' said Harry, and he fiddled with his whistle awkwardly, until he could grasp it properly. 'After three,' he stopped. He thought back to his first lesson, and to Neville Longbottom, and to what he had done for him in his later years. But soon his mind came back to the present. 'On, two … three!'  
  
  
  
'Up!' they all shouted, together. Harry saw two brooms fly straight up to the owner's hands.  
  
  
  
One was from Jennifer. Harry had expected this, how could you not, with her father being who he was? The other belonged to that small blond boy.   
  
  
  
Harry recognized him from when he had burst into his office in the middle of the night, about one month ago. Now, what was his name? Alan? Andrew? Arnold?  
  
  
  
Through all the frustrated cries of "UP! UP! UP – you stupid broom – UP!" Harry tried to talk to the boy.   
  
  
  
'Excuse me, what's your name?'  
  
  
  
'Aaron,' the small boy replied, and he seemed to be delighted at the fact he had been talked to.   
  
  
  
'Well done, Aaron, very good,' Harry smiled at the boy. 'Have you ever flown before?'  
  
  
  
'No,' the boy replied, shaking his head.  
  
  
  
'Held a broom?' the boy continued to shake his head, 'been to a quidditch match?'  
  
  
  
'Only one,' replied the boy.  
  
  
  
By now, most of the other students had managed to get their brooms to come to their hands, and the ones who hadn't would just have to continue trying. He saw one Slytherin boy struggling in particular, while his friend had just resorted to picking up the broom and …  
  
  
  
'You! Slytherin boy, I don't know your name!' Harry shouted, 'don't you dare break that broom!'  
  
  
  
'It wasn't working!' he cried, giving Harry the distinct reminder of Gregory Goyle.  
  
  
  
Harry shook his head, and addressed the rest of the students.  
  
  
  
'Mount your brooms, class, and after I say three, fly a few feet into the air, hover, and then come back down.'  
  
  
  
This is the part where it had gone wrong in [I]his[/I] first year.  
  
  
  
'One, two … three!'  
  
  
  
Jennifer rose into the air first, but did not rise a few feet, she rose a few metres! The other boy, Aaron, he rose only a few feet, but Harry noticed that he did it with style.  
  
  
  
'Class,' he shouted, to the half that were now in the air, and the half that were still on the ground, 'I want you to look at the way Aaron holds his broom.'  
  
  
  
The class turned to look at Aaron, who by now had very red cheeks.  
  
  
  
'Who told you to hold your broom like that?' he asked.  
  
  
  
'No one,' replied Aaron, 'I just looked at the way Jennifer hold hers, and copied what I saw.'  
  
  
  
Harry looked at the way he was, and the effort he took to hover where he was in the air. He could - from what he saw – that either this boy was lying (and he had a funny feeling he was not) and had been flying for years, or he was a natural flyer.  
  
  
  
'Aaron!' he shouted, 'come over here, I want to speak to you.' 


	17. Accusations and Parseltongue

A/N: AARON POV  
  
*  
  
When Oregan had first shouted, he knew he shouldn't have replied.  
  
  
  
'Can you fly?'  
  
  
  
'I'm sorry?' asked Aaron.  
  
  
  
'Can you fly? 'Cause my friend can.'  
  
  
  
'That's … um … nice for them,' Aaron was sure he had sounded far more sarcastic than he had meant to.  
  
  
  
'Do you know who her Dad is?' he was pointing at Jennifer, who was hiding her head in her hand. Her long brown hair was covering her face, but Aaron was sure that if he could have seen her face it would have been very red.  
  
  
  
'No,' said Aaron, but now he had heard, he wanted to know.   
  
  
  
'Oliver Wood,' Oregan sounded superior, and also slightly proud that he was friends with [I]Jennifer Wood.[/I]  
  
  
  
Aaron felt a pang of jealousy. He would have given anything for any dad, a normal dad, an alive dad. Yet here was Jennifer, who was the daughter of a famous quidditch player, in his very class.  
  
  
  
'Are you happy now?' it was Faith, sounding defiant as ever.  
  
  
  
'No, don't, it's not worth it,' Aaron mumbled.  
  
  
  
'No, it [I]is[/I] worth it Aaron, here she goes, getting her friend to mouth off, her famous family, confident as ever. Don't you think before you speak? Don't you think that … that there might be people here who don't know their dads?'  
  
  
  
'Stop it Faith, it's not her fault …' Aaron tried to hold Faith back as he could see what she was about to do, but she was too strong for him.  
  
  
  
She leapt forward with a squeal, and jumped onto Jennifer, who fell backwards.  
  
  
  
Aaron could have sworn he heard two voices behind him speaking. One was Winter's, who said "typical" the other was from another Slytherin boy, "ooh goody, girl fight".  
  
  
  
'Stop her!' cried Aaron. He leapt forward to try and pull her off Jennifer, but he couldn't, so he jumped back again.  
  
  
  
Faith was pulling her hair, that was long and silky, but now it was getting muddy and matted in the mud and grass. Jennifer seemed to be struggling to try and get up again, but with no avail. Then suddenly Aaron heard a welcome voice from behind the crowd.  
  
  
  
'Break it up!' Harry cried, striding over towards them, 'I said, pack it in!'  
  
  
  
He sprang back, as did most of the other first year students.  
  
  
  
Harry was striding towards them, but his expression was more of puzzlement, or "what to do" instead of anger.  
  
  
  
'Jennifer, what are you doing?' he asked her, 'and what is your name?' he said to Faith.  
  
  
  
Aaron could see that old defiant look in her eye glint as she got up from the ground. Aaron couldn't believe her nerve, she already had one detention!  
  
  
  
'Faith,' she said.  
  
  
  
'Well, Faith,' said Harry, 'and you, Jennifer, I expect more of you, both of you. I won't take any points from your houses, today. But you have been warned.'  
  
  
  
Harry willed Faith not to say anything more. She had got off lightly this time, and although she looked slightly out of sorts, she didn't say anything. But it looked like the usually mild tempered Jennifer didn't like being wrongly accused.  
  
  
  
'But –' protested Jennifer, 'I didn't do anything, it was Oregan, and Faith, I never meant to …'  
  
  
  
'You've got off with a warning!' said Harry jovially, 'come now, don't make any trouble for yourself.' Jennifer smiled past Harry, at Aaron – who returned the smile – and went off to join Oregan and Smokey.  
  
  
  
Aaron knew she was right. He could sense Jennifer had nothing to do with this and it was just Oregan's fault. She had seemed distinctly embarrassed when Oregan had been shouting the odds at Aaron.  
  
  
  
Aaron couldn't tell what was wrong with Oregan. Aaron had never made any trouble, and he would have killed to be in Gryffindor he had no desire whatsoever to make trouble for them.  
  
  
  
Yet Oregan always wanted to make himself known to Aaron, and not just Aaron, the other Slytherins as well, but particularly Aaron, probably due to the fact that he got great marks.  
  
  
  
'Right,' said Harry, 'now, let's begin this lesson properly. Everybody, I want you to step beside a broom, hold your wand hand out above it, and shout "up!" when I tell you.'  
  
  
  
All of the students stood next to their brooms, and put out their hands. Aaron glanced at him eagerly.  
  
  
  
'Oh, right yes,' said Harry, and Aaron saw him trying to clutch his whistle, which was evading his hands. 'After three,' he stopped. He seemed to be thinking, but Aaron wasn't concentrating on that, he just wanted to see whether he could make his broom jump to his hand. 'One, two … three!'  
  
  
  
'Up!' Aaron shouted, with as much feeling as he could. The broom flew straight up from the ground, and to his hand at an alarming speed. It made Aaron inhale sharply.  
  
  
  
He looked around to see who else's broom had done this, but he could only see Jennifer, who he had been expecting to manage this easily.  
  
  
  
Around him, everyone was shouting 'UP! UP!' he could hear the odd swearword coming from somewhere in the crowd, but luckily the noise was so loud that they seemed to be overlooked.  
  
  
  
It's good that brooms don't respond to insults, he thought.  
  
  
  
He suddenly caught Harry Potter trying to catch his eye.  
  
  
  
'Excuse me, what's your name?'  
  
  
  
'Aaron,' he replied. Harry Potter was actually asking his name! He hadn't done anything wrong, had he?  
  
  
  
'Well done, Aaron, very good,' Harry smiled at him. 'Have you ever flown before?'  
  
  
  
'No,' he replied, shaking his head.  
  
  
  
'Held a broom?' Aaron shook his head some more, suddenly wishing there was a more intelligent way to say "no" using your head, 'been to a quidditch match?'  
  
  
  
'Only one,' he said, thinking back on how amazing it had been. He didn't think Harry remembered his from that, which was lucky, as he could still remember the sting in his hand now.  
  
  
  
Harry glanced around the class, and took his attention away from Aaron.  
  
  
  
'You! Slytherin boy, I don't know your name!' Harry shouted, 'don't you dare break that broom!'  
  
  
  
'It wasn't working!' Aaron looked around sharply, was that Godfrey who had just been told off. It had been, Aaron smiled to himself.  
  
  
  
Harry shook his head, and addressed the rest of the students.  
  
  
  
'Mount your brooms, class, and after I say three, fly a few feet into the air, hover, and then come back down.'  
  
  
  
This is where Aaron started to get nervous. The theory of making the broom fly to your hand was all right, but this was where it got tricky.  
  
  
  
'One, two … three!'  
  
  
  
Aaron concentrated on bringing the broom off the ground. Go up, he willed it, please go up.  
  
  
  
And it did.  
  
  
  
He felt a soaring, swooping, exhilarating feeling, there was adrenaline running throughout his body, and he wanted to fly higher, but he wasn't allowed, and he feared it would go wring.  
  
  
  
But how could it go wrong, it felt so natural to him?  
  
  
  
[I]Go on, fly higher, you know you want to … look, Jennifer has …[/I]  
  
  
  
He was shocked at himself. How could he even think of disobeying the rules?! The exciting feeling wasn't fading yet.  
  
  
  
[I]You know you want to.[/I]  
  
  
  
'Class,' Harry shouted, to the half that were now in the air, and the half that were still on the ground, 'I want you to look at the way Aaron holds his broom.'  
  
  
  
The class turned to look at Aaron, who blushed deeply, he would get teased for this later, for sure.  
  
  
  
'Who told you to hold your broom like that?' Harry asked.  
  
  
  
'No one,' replied Aaron, 'I just looked at the way Jennifer hold hers, and copied what I saw.'  
  
  
  
Harry looked at him, he seemed to be assessing him. Aaron tried not to change the way he held the broom.  
  
  
  
'Aaron!' he shouted, 'come over here, I want to speak to you.'  
  
  
  
Aaron followed Harry to the edge of the pitch, away from the class.  
  
  
  
Had he done something wrong? He hoped not, he had been doing so well, up until now. He didn't [I]think[/I] he had done anything wrong, he hoped.  
  
  
  
'You, er, say you have never flown before?'  
  
  
  
'Not at all.'  
  
  
  
'You do know that Slytherin are looking for a chaser?' Harry asked.  
  
  
  
'Well,' said Aaron, 'I knew they were looking for some kind of quidditch player.'  
  
  
  
'Now, don't get your hopes up,' began Harry warily,' but I think you – and Jennifer, of course but she knows this – should go to the quidditch trials. You both seem very talented, although don't tell people I told you that …'  
  
  
  
Aaron was amazed. His hero had just told him he was [I]talented.[/I]  
  
  
  
'Of course, I can never be sure, as I can't test you for your skills here, that would be quite unfair … but Slytherin are looking for a chaser, and although you don't really have the build,' he glanced Aaron up and down, and Aaron suddenly felt very skinny and scrawny, 'you should definitely try.'  
  
  
  
'I will, of course,' said Aaron, somewhat taken aback.  
  
  
  
'I should warn you that first years don't usually get picked, and …' but Harry had to stop, because Aaron could see something going on over his shoulder.  
  
  
  
Everyone in the class was listening closely to Professor Snape, who seemed to be telling them something important. They were huddled in a group, all paying attention to what he was saying. Harry and Aaron approached him, and he stopped his speech.  
  
  
  
'Ah, Potter,' and even Aaron, who liked Professor Snape, could see that his tone was decidedly oily, 'I see you have left your class unattended. Rather foolish, I would suggest, as these [I]are[/I] first years …'  
  
  
  
'Please come to the point, Severus,' said Harry sharply.  
  
  
  
'Every house must go to their own house common rooms,' said Snape, 'there is a [I]urgent[/I] announcement that the heads of houses must make to their own houses. I have come to receive the first year Slytherins.'  
  
  
  
'But surely Severus, it can't be [I]that[/I] …'  
  
  
  
'Urgent? Yes Potter, I assure you it is urgent. It is imperative that they come.' His tone seemed to become different now, more serious. 'Now, if you don't mind, I will please take my students; and I suggest that you take your students to Minerva, she is in the Gryffindor common room.'  
  
  
  
'But what's wrong …'  
  
  
  
'Just take them,' and Snape strode off, indicating for all the Slytherins to follow him. Aaron fell into line with Winter and Faith – who threw looks of disapproval at each other – and made their way back to the underground common room.   
  
  
  
There, he could see all the Slytherins in the room, huddled and chattering excitedly. Obviously they had all been told something was going on.  
  
  
  
'I heard we've been awarded a thousand house points!'  
  
  
  
'Don't be stupid, you divvy, why would we – and all the other houses, mind you – be called to their common rooms for that?'  
  
  
  
'Someone's opened the chamber again!'  
  
  
  
Chamber? thought Aaron.  
  
  
  
'Stop scaring people,' shouted a the prefect, 'Professor Snape will tell us what it is!'  
  
  
  
Aaron was still wondering what the chamber was!  
  
  
  
'Quiet!' shouted Snape, to all the Slytherins, 'quiet!'  
  
  
  
The common room silenced.  
  
  
  
'You have been brought away from your lessons, because there has been a suspected Erkling attack on a student,' Aaron could see him steeling himself for their reaction before he continued to speak.   
  
  
  
The common room filled with noise. Not just amazed whispers, but shouts of astonishment. Some people just sat there, shell-shocked.   
  
  
  
Others however – such as Aaron and Winter – sat there looking nonchalant. The words "an attack" sounded ominous, but they didn't know quite what an Erkling was.   
  
  
  
Snape motioned with his hands for silence, and the room quietened.  
  
  
  
'For those of you that don't know, and would I be right by saying that that would be everyone under third year? Anyway, I am not here to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts – sadly – I am here to notify you of the details.  
  
  
  
'An Erkling is a small elf-like creature. It's not commonly found around these parts, but one seems to have, er, [I]lost its way.[/I] Their cackle is very effective in enticing people, especially children, to go with them, where they um …' Snape paused. 'Eat them.'  
  
  
  
There was complete chaos in the common room. People jumped out of their seats, a group of girls started screaming, and Aaron just looked at Winter, white faced. But Snape still seemed to want to continue talking.  
  
  
  
'The Ravenclaw student involved in this attack, however, is perfectly unharmed, shocked at the most. She was able to recognize that it was a dangerous situation, and she knew what it was, so she managed to run away. But this is a warning for all of you, and therefore all detentions or lessons planned for near the forest will be cancelled until we can guarantee relative safety. Of course,' he added hurriedly, 'the only beast likely to approach you in the forest is a Centaur or a Niffler, [I]Not[/I] that I expect any of you to go wandering in there …'   
  
  
  
Snape left the common room, leaving all of the Slytherins either rejoicing, because their detentions, herbology and care of magical creatures lessons had been cancelled, or worrying, because of the attack.  
  
  
  
'Wow,' said Winter, 'I never thought things like that happened here. I mean, I'd heard stories, and I heard about … you know … he who must not be named – coming here. But I s=assumed that was just in Harry Potter's day!'  
  
  
  
'Don't you believe it,' said Faith, sliding over.  
  
  
  
'I'm sorry, did you want something?' said Winter coldly.  
  
  
  
'Ooh, do I sense a frosty atmosphere around you, Ice Queen?'  
  
  
  
'Hey, you started it,' said Winter, 'and don't you [I]dare[/I] make fun of my name.'  
  
  
  
'Well I'm just shaking in my boots,' said Faith sarcastically, 'now come on, you're making people stare.' As she said that all the people who had been staring looked away.  
  
  
  
'Cool it, you two!' Aaron said. 'What the hell is wrong with you? You've been like this since the start of term, I want you to tell me what's wrong.'  
  
  
  
Faith and Winter looked at each other, as if daring the other to speak first.  
  
  
  
'Well, come on.'  
  
  
  
'Let's just say that she's not the [I]type[/I] of girl I like to hang around with.'  
  
  
  
'For once we agree, Ice Queen.'  
  
  
  
Winter continued. 'It's just a plain clash of personality. Aaron, she's a tart, I'm not. Plain as day.'  
  
  
  
Aaron winced, uh-oh, he could sense trouble. Faith didn't say a word, her eyes just flashed – was it red? – for a second, and she muttered "Ice Queen" under her breath.   
  
  
  
She raised her hand, and Aaron gasped as he saw where it was heading. It seemed to move in slow motion as she brought it through the air and landed it on Winter's cheek with a sharp crack.  
  
  
  
'Don't you DARE call me a tart!' she said, and stalked off into the corner of the room, where Ben stood (Aaron noticed), her head held high.  
  
  
  
There was a single pearly tear in the corner of Winter's eye. 'Don't tell me I asked for it,' she whispered softly.  
  
  
  
'I do wish you'd make friends,' said Aaron. But he decided not to go any further.  
  
  
  
'I want to show you something,' said Winter. 'but you have to come to the dormitory.'  
  
  
  
She stood up and beckoned for Aaron to follow her, which he did, perplexed. They went up the dormitory stairs and she took him into a room, about sixteen doors up, the same amount that the boy's dorm was.  
  
  
  
The room was empty, and Winter went over to her bed. She reached under the bed, and pulled out a glass enclosure. It was surprisingly light, and made Aaron blink.  
  
  
  
'What is it?' he asked.  
  
  
  
'A Natrix Natrix,' she said proudly.  
  
  
  
'A what?' Aaron asked.  
  
  
  
'Otherwise known as the grass snake,' she said.  
  
  
  
'Snake?!' Aaron said, alarmed. He backed off, anxiously.  
  
  
  
'Don't worry,' she said, 'she's practically harmless.' Aaron didn't like the way she slipped the word "practically" into that sentence.  
  
  
  
'How did you … who else knows?'  
  
  
  
'No one, that's why I have to tell someone, and I can trust you. The enclosure is enchanted, so she gets all she needs. She's called Hisa-me.'  
  
  
  
'Hisa-me, how very appropriate,' he said ironically.  
  
  
  
Winter opened the top of the cage, and wrapped Hisa-me around her shoulders.  
  
  
  
'Sssnaky,' said Hisa-me.  
  
  
  
Aaron was amazed, that snake said something.  
  
  
  
'Pardon?' he said.  
  
  
  
'Shut it Aaron,' said Winter, 'you'll confuse her if you imitate her hiss.' But Aaron wasn't listening, and didn't hear.  
  
  
  
'Sssnaky, sssnaky, sssnake, meeee meee meee sssnaky!' said Hisa-me.  
  
  
  
Winter started to put Hisa-me back into the enclosure.  
  
  
  
'What are you doing?' asked Aaron. He didn't want the snake to go, ho thought she was quite sweet really! "Snaky, snaky, meee" it almost made him laugh.  
  
  
  
'I gotta go to the loo,' she said, 'and I can't leave her with you.'  
  
  
  
'Why not?' asked Aaron, 'you said she was harmless, after all.'  
  
  
  
Winter seemed to be having a conflict of emotions.  
  
  
  
'Well, if you wrap her around your neck, like this,' and she put the snake gently around Aaron's neck. Hisa-me wasn't the slightest bit slimy, as Aaron had expected, in fact she was quite smooth, he could glide his hand right over her scales. 'and if you stroke her, make sure it is in the direction the scales go in, or it could be [I]very[/I] painful … for her,' she added, as she saw Aaron's worried look.  
  
  
  
Winter left the room, and Aaron looked straight at Hisa-me.  
  
  
  
'You gifty boy,' she said. Her voice was quite babyish, and reminded Aaron of E.T, an alien he had seen in a muggle film, a very long time ago.  
  
  
  
'Do you speak proper English?' he asked her.  
  
  
  
'What? Hisa?' she asked. Aaron nodded – he hoped snakes understood nods.  
  
  
  
'Hisa, she speak little, little bit … Hisa no know things …' Aaron was beginning to get used to the fact that she spoke, and thought she was very cute indeed.  
  
  
  
'Do all snakes talk?' he asked her. He had never been faced with a snake before, he was actually quite ignorant of what they were like, only that some could harm you, even kill you. No one had ever bothered to tell him that some were harmless. Or "practically" harmless, as Winter put it.  
  
  
  
'I say, Hisa-me did say, you boy are gifty mifty lifty thrifty nifty sifty yifty! Heeeee heeee heeeee!!!' she started waving her head around in the air, as though be charmed by a snake charmer on fast-forward.  
  
  
  
Aaron recoiled his head from hers. It seemed quite barmy to think it, but this snake was clearly nutty!  
  
  
  
Aaron stretched his finger out, and patted the top of her head with it, the way he would pat Hebe. Surprisingly, she started to rub her head against his index finger whilst humming a little tune.  
  
  
  
At this point Winter re-entered the room, and ran over to Aaron.  
  
  
  
'How was she?' asked Winter.   
  
  
  
'Off her head,' said Aaron plainly. 'is that normal snake behaviour, or is it just yours that hums randomly and talks like E.T?'  
  
  
  
'What's E.T?' asked Winter, obviously perplexed. 'And it's nothing to joke about, you know it's not funny, Aaron.'  
  
  
  
Aaron decided not to say anything. Maybe Hisa-me had a brain disease, Winter was a little testy to talk about it. Maybe that was why she didn't speak to Hisa.   
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
Professor Granger stood in front of the class, and pointed to the blackboard, where two words were written.   
  
  
  
[b]Death Eaters[/b]  
  
  
  
'Perhaps,' she said, 'the most famous group of dark wizards we know. I doubt that there would be anyone in this class who had not heard of them.'  
  
  
  
Aaron had certainly heard of them, but the name was about as much as he knew. he knew who they had followed, he knew who they had worshipped, but even he dared not say the name to himself.  
  
  
  
'We have covered the Dark Wolves, the Consignation, the Order of the Talken, the Dragon Riders and the Congress of Inferno as our main groups, but now we come to the most famous one of all. The Death Eaters.'  
  
  
  
Hands were going up, and she had hardly started.  
  
  
  
'Well, I can see we have people keen to talk, so, I'll start, shall I? And then afterwards we can go round the class.'  
  
  
  
The hands went down.  
  
  
  
'Well, can you all take out your quills and parchment, and makes notes on what I say.' There was shuffling around the classroom. 'The Death Eaters were formed around fifty years ago, the exact date, no one knows. They were a group formed in support of Tom Riddle, as you-know-who was formerly known. As we have discovered, each different group had their own sign, and soon enough they discovered theirs. They had a green skull with a snake protruding from the mouth, like a travesty of a tongue. This became known as the dark mark, and no wizard could figure out the incantation, which created. In fact, if anyone can find out the first person to hear it and remember it they can have ten points for Slytherin. The actually incantation is morsmordre, although,' and here she paused, 'if anyone dares to try and cast it, it will earn them a severe reprimand. The different members of the association were kept secret from each other, which proved handy for he who must not be named when some of them collapsed, or got caught. Some of them made deals with the ministry, and exchanged names for freedom from azkaban. Each of them had a dark mark tattooed on their left arm, which burned and turned black when he who must not be named wanted them to come to him …'  
  
  
  
She continued on this vein for some time, and Aaron noted down what she said. When she had finished, the hands went up again, and she glanced at her watch.  
  
  
  
Aaron looked around the room. It seemed everyone had their own thing to say about the Death Eaters, except him.  
  
  
  
'I think we've got enough time to say a few things, but remember, I want no names mentioned, and I'm sure everyone in this class is perfectly nice anyway.' She smiled around at them. 'right, shall we start with … Ben.'  
  
  
  
'Professor Granger, there's something that you haven't mentioned about the Death Eaters.'  
  
  
  
'What's that, Ben?'  
  
  
  
'You-know-who was a parselmouth.' Professor Granger, pointed a knowing finger at him, and said, 'good, Ben, well done. Perhaps the most famous trait of he who must not be named, his ability in parseltongue. Can you tell us exactly what it is, for those who don't know.'  
  
  
  
Aaron was intrigued to hear, for he didn't know what a parselmouth was.  
  
  
  
'It is the ability to talk to snakes,' said Ben, 'it is a rare gift, most famously possessed by Slytherin himself, and you-know-who. It is considered a ability of dark wizards.'  
  
  
  
Aaron was confused. [I]He[/I] could talk to snakes, and he wasn't descended of that line. Maybe there was some kind of exception. He put up his hand.  
  
  
  
'Yes, Aaron?'  
  
  
  
'Well, Professor, Ben said that it was an ability known to dark wizards, but …'  
  
  
  
'Ah,' interrupted Professor Granger, 'I think I know what you were going to say, Aaron. You were going to ask me why it is that Harry Potter is a parselmouth as well, were you not?'   
  
  
  
'I … um … well …' Aaron had a bad feeling about this. For one, he hadn't known that Harry Potter was a parselmouth, and for two, if [I]he[/I] admitted to being a parselmouth, people might talk. 'Um … yeah, that's what I was going to say.'  
  
  
  
'Well, when Harry Potter was attacked by you-know-who all those years ago, it is thought that some of you-know-who actually transferred some of himself into Harry – I mean, Harry Potter. Nothing evil, of course, but Harry Potter has the ability to talk to snakes.'  
  
  
  
Aaron was astounded, he had found out so many things in such a little time! He couldn't tell anyone, they'd think he was some kind of dark wizard … or something.  
  
  
  
And how come he could talk to snakes? Maybe one of his ancestors could, a long time ago, and nobody had realised they could talk to snakes until he had. Maybe Millicent had never met a snake, so she had never found out she was a parseltongue.  
  
  
  
Now other people were putting their hands up, and telling their own stories of what they had heard.  
  
  
  
Aaron was amazed at how he heard that some of the ministry members were so corrupted enough to do deals with Death Eaters, or even turn into Death Eaters themselves!  
  
  
  
And their methods of torture, Aaron had never known it to be this bad, and it only made him respect the people who had come out of that time more than ever.  
  
  
  
He hated the way they had brought shame on Slytherin. As he found out from other members of his house, the majority of the death eaters had been from this very house, and had caused a prejudice ever since, especially with Gryffindors.  
  
  
  
'Yes, Boris?' Aaron wondered, what could Godfrey possibly have to say?  
  
  
  
Godfrey stood up as he took his turn. For a while he didn't speak, but then he pointed an accusing finger at Aaron.  
  
  
  
'His mother,' he said slowly, and carefully, 'was a Death Eater.'  
  
  
  
There was silence in the classroom, everyone stared at Aaron.  
  
  
  
'I did ask,' Professor Granger said into the silence, 'for no accu-'  
  
  
  
'She was not!' shouted Aaron, 'she was-'  
  
  
  
'She was killed,' Godfrey said coldly, looking straight at Aaron, 'because she turned sides, and somebody thought she should get her just desserts.'  
  
  
  
'And how would [I]you[/I] know so much about it, eh?' butted in Aaron.  
  
  
  
'Boys, if you could just … please …'  
  
  
  
'My parents told me, their best friend was an auror.'  
  
  
  
'And you really expect me to [I]believe[/I] all of that rubbish, do you?'  
  
  
  
'BOYS!' shouted Professor Granger, 'will both of you please shut up! Mr Godfrey, that was a very unjust, unfair, and embarrassing accusation you just made there. How dare you insult another student like that?'  
  
  
  
But Godfrey did not back down, only stood taller. On either side of him, Winter and Faith put a hand on Aaron's arms, not to hold him back, but to comfort him.  
  
  
  
The insult rung in his ears. It couldn't be true, could it? No. he would refuse to believe his mother had ever been a Death Eater. If she had been, then surely there would be clues in the house, Millicent would know, she would have told me!  
  
  
  
'Aaron, are you okay?' Professor Granger asked him. He nodded in response.  
  
  
  
'That's okay. To make an accusation like that was immature and childish, and something I specifically asked him not to do. But you should not have retaliated. You should have known that I wouldn't allow something like that to be said in one of my classes.' She turned back to Godfrey. 'Mr Godfrey, I expect to see you in detention, stay behind after class for me to tell you the details. And sit down.'   
  
  
  
Godfrey did as he was told.  
  
  
  
'For next weeks homework, I expect to have three feet of writing on the Death Eaters. I would also like you to include at the bottom how they were disbanded.'  
  
  
  
The class filed out of the classroom, Winter and Faith at Aaron's sides, whispering 'ignore them, ignore them,' about the people who were throwing funny looks at him.  
  
  
  
'Next week,' Professor Granger shouted after them, 'we will be starting a new topic!' and as Aaron left the classroom, he was sure he had heard her whisper, 'I knew this topic was trouble before I started it.' 


	18. Quidditch trials

A/N: HARRY POV  
  
*  
  
It was a shame, thought Harry, that there had to be such tight security at the quidditch trials. The number of teachers standing around with their wands on guard could be putting the students off.  
  
  
  
It was mid-November, and Harry was in charge of directing the inter-house quidditch championship player trials. The winter air was bitterly cold, and a sharp wind cut against his cheek.  
  
  
  
Students milled around the quidditch pitch, wishing their friends who were trying out one last good luck, before the tryouts started.  
  
  
  
There were groups of students, all in black robes, but with banners, beaming their friend's name out onto the rest of the pitch, so that people could see. From his place on the pitch Harry could see several signs, saying things like "Go go Gillian!" and "Ravenclaws rule – and so does Rob!"  
  
  
  
'QUIET!' he shouted, and blew on his whistle several times, 'HUSH! I WOULD LIKE TO START, PLEASE!' he let out several purple blasts from the end of his wand, and the pitch quietened.  
  
  
  
'I'm glad you could all come to support your friends, or even to try out yourself, but before we start I would like to see all the people wanting to try out in the changing rooms, please.'  
  
  
  
There was another eruption of noise, as people started to wish their friends good luck again, and slowly a trail of people wandered over to the changing rooms.   
  
  
  
Harry went over to there too.  
  
  
  
As he entered the room, he could see that there was an awful amount of people waiting around, so many that not even all the students could sit down.  
  
  
  
'Shush!' he cried to the crowded room, 'before we start, I just have a couple of words to say to you.'  
  
  
  
The students in the room all looked at him, and he continued to speak.  
  
  
  
'Before we start, I would just like to clear with you that positions in each of the houses that have become vacant this year. Hufflepuff; one beater; one chaser. Ravenclaw; one keeper. Gryffindor; one chaser, and Slytherin; one seeker; one chaser.  
  
  
  
I'm afraid the fact that we need at least one position filled for each of the houses teams has meant that we are a bit busy,' and it was at that point he realised he was shouting a bit, above all the noise in the stands.  
  
  
  
'I would just like to remind everyone, that whatever happens today, whether you get in or not, you should support your house, and not feel bad. First years should remember they are at a considerable disadvantage, due to the fact they are not allowed private brooms, I'm sorry, but it is not impossible for you to get onto your house team. And last of all – good luck!'  
  
  
  
Everyone in the changing rooms cheered, their spirits high!   
  
  
  
'Now,' Harry continued, remembering there was something he hadn't said earlier. 'As you leave the changing room, I would like you to come to me, tell me what house you are in, what year you are in, what your name is and what position you will be applying for. Form a line, please, form a queue!'  
  
  
  
The students all went and stood in a queue, that stretched right from Harry to the back of the changing room, and then doubled round again. It was amazing, looking at all the students who would do anything for a place, and yet only six of them would get through.  
  
  
  
'Okay,' he said to the first boy in the line, 'name, please?'  
  
  
  
'Andrew Bodkins.'  
  
  
  
'Year?'  
  
  
  
'Sixth.'  
  
  
  
'Quidditch position?'  
  
  
  
'Beater.'  
  
  
  
'House?'  
  
  
  
'Hufflepuff.'  
  
  
  
'Thank you. Next!'  
  
  
  
The line carried on and on, until finally the last few hopefuls were left to be registered. There were a few faces he recognised, some he was glad to see, and some he wasn't. the next person was someone he wasn't surprised to see.  
  
  
  
'Name?'  
  
  
  
'Jennifer Wood.'  
  
  
  
'Year?'  
  
  
  
'First.'  
  
  
  
'Quidditch position?'  
  
  
  
'Chaser.'  
  
  
  
'House?'  
  
  
  
'Gryffindor.'  
  
  
  
'Thank you, next!' he shouted, but as she passed him he whispered, 'good luck,' to her. He knew he shouldn't. he recognised the last face in the line too.  
  
  
  
'Name?'  
  
  
  
'Aaron Bulstrode.'  
  
  
  
'Year?'  
  
  
  
'First.'  
  
  
  
'Quidditch position?'  
  
  
  
'Um …' he seemed to hesitate for a while, and then said, 'seeker.'  
  
  
  
'House?'  
  
  
  
'Slytherin.'  
  
  
  
Harry went out onto the quidditch pitch, where a cold wind was still blowing, he wrapped his cloak tighter around him.   
  
  
  
He saw all the hopefuls lined up – sitting on chairs – all looking slightly different. Some of them were looking quietly confident, some others were looking confident, not so quietly. The rest of them ranged from just plain cold, apprehensive, scared and outright petrified.  
  
  
  
Ravenclaw was due to start, so Harry hushed the crowd, blew his whistle once and cried 'Emily Morecambe, first tryout for Ravenclaw keeper!'  
  
  
  
A small but mature girl, Harry could see from his notes that she was a third year, got up from her seat. She was one of the scared-looking students.  
  
  
  
She took her broom and went out onto the middle of the quidditch pitch, where she got up onto it, and flew high into the air.  
  
  
  
There was a Ravenclaw chaser up there with the quaffle, waiting for her to take her place near the goals. When she looked like she was ready, Harry nodded to the chaser.  
  
  
  
The chaser threw the quaffle gently to the goals. Emily caught it easily and returned it to the chaser.  
  
  
  
The chaser threw it a bit more roughly, away from Emily. She swerved to one side and caught that, too.  
  
  
  
The chaser threw it really hard at the goal now, and although Emily knocked it away from the goal, she didn't catch it, and the chaser wasn't able to catch it.  
  
  
  
"Could have been intercepted" Harry wrote on his paper.  
  
  
  
Now another chaser joined the first, and they made a number of complicated moves before throwing it to the goal. Emily tried to do a starfish move, but the Quaffle sailed straight past her and into the goal.  
  
  
  
"Unlikely keeper" Harry wrote, feeling meaner by the second.  
  
  
  
'Okay,' he shouted, 'Marsha Cauldron, second tryout for Ravenclaw keeper.'  
  
  
  
Marsha Cauldron was a slight improvement on Emily Morecambe, but still not quite keeper material.  
  
  
  
It was about two hours, after watching all the applicants for Ravenclaw keeper and Hufflepuffs beater and chaser. Next it was Gryffindor, good, he was looking forward to this.  
  
  
  
'Vanessa Travers, first tryout for Gryffindor chaser,' he shouted.  
  
  
  
The chasers had two challenges. They had to be tested on their passing and catching abilities, and also their shooting skills.  
  
  
  
Vanessa Travers was a tall girl, only from second year, but her broom was a Nimbus 3000, nearly the best broom in the country, second only to the Thunderclap ZX.  
  
  
  
She had long blonde hair, which was tied back in a plait, and she appeared to be quite confident. There was a swagger in her step, though as Harry watched her, it was more of a confident swagger, than an arrogant one.  
  
  
  
She got up on her broom and flew into the air, to meet the two current Gryffindor chasers, one of which was her sister, Deborah Travers.  
  
  
  
"Nice broom," wrote Harry, "Sister on team, convenient for practice."  
  
  
  
'Okay,' called Harry, 'begin!'  
  
  
  
A chant started in the crowd. 'Nessa! Nessa! Nessa! Nessa!'  
  
  
  
She's popular, though Harry.  
  
  
  
The two chasers started to throw the quaffle from one to another, and then they surprised Vanessa by throwing it to her quickly, but she caught it neatly.  
  
  
  
They tried various formations, each of which she performed faultlessly.  
  
  
  
"Good flyer,'" wrote Harry, "Though a little mechanical, but it seems to work."  
  
  
  
Next would come the shooting skills. The Gryffindor keeper took his place in front of the goals, and Vanessa held the quaffle, ready to score.  
  
  
  
She took hold of the red ball and threw it, not too hard, Harry noticed, but just enough so it glided straight past the keeper and into the goal. She turned around and gave her sister a high five.  
  
  
  
The shout in the crowd turned from, 'Nessa! Nessa!' into loud cheers.  
  
  
  
"Skilled shooter," wrote Harry.  
  
  
  
After she shot three more times (all successfully) Harry called her down, and the next candidate up. The next person was of course not quite as good – probably intimidated by her amazing performance, though Harry.   
  
  
  
After many more entrants, Harry came to the one he had wanted to see.  
  
  
  
'Jennifer Wood, fifteenth tryout for Gryffindor chaser.'  
  
  
  
Jennifer got up from her seat, visibly shaking. Her face was as green as the grass and the expression on her face was one of pure terror.  
  
  
  
Harry was worried. He knew she was a talented quidditch player, but if she was so worried then would she do something stupid?   
  
  
  
Fall off her broom? Miss the quaffle? And what if she took after her dad? What if she was more of a keeper than a chaser? The current keeper was only in third year, he could be keeper for years!  
  
  
  
She got onto her broom in the middle of the pitch. Her rise up into the air was slow and shuddering, and there was no shout for Jennifer.  
  
  
  
Harry could see her friends out in the crowd, and they looked too worried to cheer.  
  
  
  
She had reached the height above the ground where she had to start, but she was still looking worried.   
  
  
  
'Okay! Start!' yelled Harry.  
  
  
  
The chasers threw the quaffle to each other, until finally one of them threw quite a predictable his to Jennifer. She caught it, and only wobbled slightly on her broom. She threw it back to the chasers confidently.  
  
  
  
They tried another formation, and threw the quaffle to her again, only this time in a more difficult way. Jennifer caught it very confidently this time. She was getting her self-belief back.  
  
  
  
They tried formation after formation, pass after pass, and Jennifer managed to do them all perfectly. She was a natural flier, not mechanical at all.  
  
  
  
Now came the shooting test.  
  
  
  
They handed her the quaffle, and she shot it at the goal. The red ball sailed straight past the keeper and into one of the hoops.  
  
  
  
She tried again, this time she had to loop a bludger before shooting at the goal. The quaffle went so fast it was just a blur in the air before the keeper dodged to avoid it and it sailed through the goal, barely touching the side.  
  
  
  
The crowd clapped and a call started in the crowd. 'Jen! Jen! Jen!'  
  
  
  
"Good flyer," wrote Harry, "good shooter" and he added "good chaser". Harry doubted that even her own father would find it hard to stop one of those goals from going in.  
  
  
  
So three of the houses had been done, and only the Slytherins were left to go.  
  
  
  
The chasers went first. There were thirteen of them trying out in all, and Harry could see five definite possibles, eight definite no's and out of the five possibles there was one clear student who excelled.  
  
  
  
Now came the seekers.  
  
  
  
The seekers only task in the game was to catch the snitch and stay out of trouble, so catching the snitch was what they had to do for their trial. There would be some chasers throwing the quaffle around just to confuse them a little.  
  
  
  
Because of the unpredictability of the snitch, and no one knew exactly how long it would be before it was caught, anyone was permitted to leave now.  
  
  
  
A lot of the people in the stands left with their friends who had already tried out, to discuss who was good, who had made fools of themselves, and how they had done.  
  
  
  
Harry looked at the list in his hands for the Slytherin seeker tryouts, there was six people trying for it, four boys and three girls.   
  
  
  
When all the kafuffle had stopped, Harry saw that the six people were standing where they should be by the pitch, and their supporters were still standing in the crowd. A few Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws and Gryffindors had stayed to watch, but not many.  
  
  
  
'Okay!' Harry shouted, though he didn't need to shout as loudly now. 'Can I have – Iona Tarbuck please!'  
  
  
  
A small thin girl got up from where she sat beside the pitch.  
  
  
  
"Right build" Harry wrote on his notes.   
  
  
  
She got onto her broom, and flew up onto the pitch, above where the chasers were throwing the quaffle. She stayed there for a while but then she started circling the pitch, on the watch all the time. In the end it took her half an hour to catch the quaffle.  
  
  
  
It was around the same time with three of the other tryouts, their times ranged from twenty-five minutes to 40+ (they had had to give up on that one, it was becoming too long).  
  
  
  
The next hopeful – Gillian Greeneye – took only ten minutes to find the small winged ball, although she was rather thickset.   
  
  
  
Ah – said a nasty voice in Harry's brain – but so was Cedric Diggory, wasn't he?   
  
  
  
Harry looked to his notes, to see who was next. 'Can I have Aaron Bulstrode please, sixth tryout for Slytherin chaser!' 


	19. Shy girls and secrets

A/N: AARON POV  
  
*  
  
There was something licking his forehead. No, on second thoughts, how could there possibly be something licking his forehead? Aaron concentrated as much as he could in his sleep state. Nope, there was [I]definitely[/I] something licking his forehead.  
  
  
  
'Ergh,' he said, 'dop i' st-stop it!'  
  
  
  
he swiped his hand in front of his face, unaware of how ludicrous it looked. He waved his hand around for a while, until he hit something that meowed loudly in protest.  
  
  
  
'Ah. Hebe. Sorry,' Aaron said, and promptly fell asleep again.   
  
  
  
There was something licking his face. Have I been here before? he thought. Yes, he had, it was Hebe.  
  
  
  
'Hebe!' he shouted, and sat up. Or rather, dragged himself until he was leaning up, and could see Hebe through his blurry vision.  
  
  
  
The cat was walking up and down his bed, scratching at his sheets and jumping on and off, meowing loudly.  
  
  
  
'Stop it!'  
  
  
  
'MEOW.'  
  
  
  
'You're going to wake people up!'  
  
  
  
'MEOW.'  
  
  
  
'Give it up, Hebe.'  
  
  
  
Aaron wasn't in a good mood. Aaron hadn't been in a very good mood for a long time. He spent every minute of every day wondering about his mother and father. He was living in the past like he never had before.  
  
  
  
He was becoming very self obsessed, and feeling sorry for himself. His lessons were going downhill; how was he supposed to change a bloody needle into a match when he had no parents? Who did McGonagall think he was, cinde-bloody-rella?  
  
  
  
'Aaron?' another voice called from the doorway, a female voice. It sounded like Faith, but Aaron couldn't be sure.  
  
  
  
'Oh, [I]what?[/I]' Aaron called irritably. 'Leave me [I]alo-o-one[/I]!'  
  
  
  
'Fine, I'll go,' she said, 'but if you want to miss your tryout, don't blame me!' there was a singing tone in her voice.  
  
  
  
Tryout. The word was important, Aaron knew it. Tryout. Argh! Quidditch tryout!  
  
  
  
'Wait!' he shouted, 'wait, don't go! I … I have to get changed.'  
  
  
  
'So you've decided to face the living world?' said Winter, as she poked her head around the curtain.  
  
  
  
'Winter?' asked Aaron. 'I thought you were Faith.'  
  
  
  
'Don't look too disappointed,' she said genially, and Aaron heard someone giggle in the background.  
  
  
  
'Who – who is that?' asked Aaron, sitting up some more.  
  
  
  
'Me!' said Faith, as she pulled back the curtain around his bed, and pointed to the window.   
  
  
  
A flood of light blinded Aaron for a couple of seconds and he put his arm in front of his eyes.  
  
  
  
'Hey! Don't be a wussy!' cried Faith, 'living people like the sunlight, there's living people out there!'  
  
  
  
'Exactly,' said Winter, 'so unless you're some kind of vampire, I can't see any objections you would have.'  
  
  
  
'Since when did you two become friends?' asked Aaron puzzled.  
  
  
  
'Since you,' said Winter as she ripped of his duvet to reveal him in his pyjamas, 'became an idiot.'  
  
  
  
'I have [I]not[/I] been an idiot!' said Aaron stubbornly, when knowing really he had.  
  
  
  
'Yeah,' said Faith. 'We, that's me and Ice Queen here, thought that since you weren't showing any intention of stopping you idiot-ness, we'd better get are acts together.'  
  
  
  
Aaron overlooked the fact they had accused him of idiocy twice, and marvelled that Winter wasn't pulling Faith's hair out for calling her Ice Queen. He shivered; it was cold in his pyjamas.  
  
  
  
'Now lazybones, we're going to leave you to get dressed, and get yourself downstairs to eat something, before you start drowning in self pity.' Winter, of course, was joking, but Aaron still felt rough. He didn't have the heart for any quidditch trials, and obviously the look on his face reflected the way he felt inside.  
  
  
  
The two girls sat on either side of the bed, both looking at him. Winter, in pity, but Faith in determination.  
  
  
  
'Aaron,' asked Faith gently, 'are you still upset at what Godfrey said about your mother last week?'  
  
  
  
Aaron didn't say anything, but looked around, wondering who was overhearing this.  
  
  
  
'Don't worry,' she said, 'everyone else's gone down to breakfast. There's no one else in here.'  
  
  
  
And Aaron started to tell them the truth.  
  
  
  
'But what if my mum was a Death Eater? What then?' Aaron shrugged his shoulders.  
  
  
  
'Don't believe anything that Godfrey says,' said Winter, 'you know he just wants to provoke you. He's jealous because you're a perfect student, and he has got the brains of a goldfish.'  
  
  
  
'And the face of one too,' added Faith.  
  
  
  
'I bet it's [I]his[/I] mum who was a Death Eater, and he's just sore because … because he is!' Winter said defiantly.  
  
  
  
Aaron looked at his two friends. They were trying their best, but something was wrong inside him, and he couldn't put his hand on his heart and tell them what it was, for he didn't know himself.  
  
  
  
Then Faith spoke up. 'Tell me about your mum,' she asked Aaron. 'Tell me what she was like.'  
  
  
  
Winter was throwing odd looks at Faith, but didn't tell her to stop.  
  
  
  
'I-I-I don't know,' said Aaron, 'she died after I was born. She died when I was two years old.'  
  
  
  
'Two years old?' asked Faith dubiously, 'then surely you must have memories of her?'  
  
  
  
'N-no,' said Aaron, stumbling over his words, 'I don't.'  
  
  
  
Winter seemed to have cottoned onto whatever Faith was getting at.  
  
  
  
'Can we see a picture of her?' she asked.  
  
  
  
Aaron shook his head. 'Millicent took them away.'  
  
  
  
'What do you think she looked like?' Winter asked. Aaron couldn't understand what all the questions were for.  
  
  
  
Maybe it was best for him to say, though. 'She has blond hair. Long, straight, blond hair. She isn't ugly, like my sister. Her eyes sparkle, they're blue. She's kind, no, she [I]looks[/I] kind.'  
  
  
  
'Now I know what you're getting upset about,' said Faith. 'Listen to what you just said. The image you hold of your mother is perfect – I'm not saying it shouldn't be,' she interjected as Aaron opened his mouth in protest. 'You'll only destroy yourself if you carry on doing this. You need to ignore him, Aaron. For our sakes, as well as yours.'  
  
  
  
'That's right,' said Winter. 'Whether she was a Death Eater of not is neither here nor there. I'm sure she wasn't, but even if she had been, nothing can change the past. It's dangerous to live in the past, Aaron, it drags you away from the every day.'  
  
  
  
And then Aaron knew that they were right, and that he had to get on with things, whatever had happened.  
  
  
  
They left the dorm, so Aaron got changed and went downstairs, to join them for breakfast.  
  
  
  
'Would you like some t-' Faith began to ask, but then suddenly owls came zooming over head and there were cries of "mail! Mail!" all over the hall.  
  
  
  
Aaron, although he thought mail time was interesting, wasn't that bothered by it. Usually all that happened for him was that he got splashed with milk from someone else's letter dropping in a jug nearby.  
  
  
  
He hadn't got one letter since the start of term, not even a howler from Millicent for evading her and coming to Hogwarts.  
  
  
  
But as the cried of "mail!" carried on, Aaron saw two owls, one, a school owl and one an ordinary barn owl, heading straight for him.  
  
  
  
They swooped low over the table – the barn owl knocked over the rack of toast Faith had been holding – and dropped two letters to Aaron. One was just a slip of paper, which he looked at first.  
  
  
  
It said: [I]Due to the unfortunate circu[I][/I]mstances with the Erkling, your detention was postponed. Although safety is not yet assured near the forest, you will be placed in the care of our Groundskeeper, Rubeus Hagrid, and should be safe. You will meet Mr Hagrid in the entrance hall at 7pm on the 14th January, at which time all threat of Erkling should have gone.  
  
  
  
Yours sincerely,  
  
  
  
Professor S. Snape.[/I]  
  
  
  
Aaron looked over to Faith, who was chatting with Winter. Was it just him, or did their sudden friendship seem uncanny? He dispelled his doubts immediately, who was he to be a killjoy?  
  
  
  
'Did you get one of these?' he asked.  
  
  
  
'Yeah,' she said, and carried on chatting to Winter. (Or Icy, as she was now calling her.)  
  
  
  
'Charming,' said Aaron, and opened the other letter.  
  
  
  
[I]Dear Aaron,[/I] it started  
  
  
  
[I]How are you, my dear boy? I was waiting for your letter to come, but it never did. Are you all right? You said you would send me a letter to say how you were getting on, did you send it? It might be the owls, sometimes they get caught up in the wind, and it has been gale force recently, hasn't it? Anyway, I shan't bore you by going on about the weather.  
  
  
  
So what house did the sorting hat put you in? Gryffindor, no doubt! If only you could hear me, for at this point I am chuckling to myself. You don't think the senility has set in already, do you? Like I was saying, I bet you're in Gryffindor! I remember when you got my Poochy down from that tree, that was ever so brave of you!  
  
  
  
I have only seen Millicent once since you left, and she was walking around like a bear with a sore head. I didn't talk to her – I value my life!  
  
  
  
They'll have the Christmas decorations up soon, they're always a treat to look forward to. I will say no more. Say hello to that Harry Potter for me in your next flying lesson. He's a dashing young lad in my opinion. Tell him he makes an old lady very happy.[/I] Aaron laughed.   
  
  
  
[I]What else is going on there? Tell me everything in your next letter! I am missing your company very much, although Andy is a dear. Take care!  
  
  
  
All my love,  
  
  
  
Elsie.[/I]  
  
  
  
He was just about to put the letter in his pocket, when he turned it over and something on the other side caught his eye. Something was written there, in large, clumsy handwriting.  
  
  
  
Odd, thought Aaron. The handwriting was most unlike Elsie's small scribble, very big and messy.  
  
  
  
Perhaps it had been an old piece of paper, already written on, he decided.  
  
  
  
He ignored it, folded it back up and put it in his pocket. He looked at the table full of food, and was just about to stretch over for a piece of toast when he suddenly remembered. He was going to fly today.  
  
  
  
His stomach flipped, and he put his arms on it quickly and groaned.  
  
  
  
'Auuuhh,' he said.  
  
  
  
The two girls turned around quickly. 'Aaron, are you okay?'  
  
  
  
'I feel sick,' he said, and groaned some more.  
  
  
  
'You're not pulling out of the trials now! You've got two teachers backing you, and we know you're going to do well, don't we Winter!'  
  
  
  
Winter nodded her head in agreement.  
  
  
  
'You're going to make it onto that team,' she said, 'I just know you can!'  
  
  
  
Aaron made a derisive sound. 'I'm not backing out, you guys, I'm just saying I feel sick – I'm so nervous!'  
  
  
  
'You're sure you don't want just one piece of toast?' asked Faith.  
  
  
  
Aaron made a revolted noise and Faith put the toast back.  
  
  
  
'We should be going,' tapping Aaron on the arm and pointing around the hall. 'Look, people are leaving already.'  
  
  
  
It was true. Bundles of students were leaving through the great hall doors to the grounds outside.  
  
  
  
Aaron gulped, and started to walk towards to door, Winter and Faith closely following him.  
  
  
  
When they reached the grounds outside, they went to the quidditch pitch, where the trials would take place.  
  
  
  
Groups of students were huddled all over the place, some holding banners, some hugging nervous-looking friends and some just standing there, talking. No one was in the stands just yet.  
  
  
  
'Remember,' said Faith, 'just because most of the entrants will be older than you, don't let them push you around.'  
  
  
  
'Yeah,' added Winter, 'and remember that you're here because you're a great flyer. And even if you don't get in, or you mess up, bear in mind this is only a trial.'  
  
  
  
Then they al saw Harry Potter walk out onto the pitch. He looked around at the students, and at all of their banners and placards.  
  
  
  
'QUIET!' he shouted, and blew on his whistle several times, 'HUSH! I WOULD LIKE TO START, PLEASE!' he let out several purple blasts from the end of his wand, and the pitch quietened.  
  
  
  
'I'm glad you could all come to support your friends, or even to try out yourself, but before we start I would like to see all the people wanting to try out in the changing rooms, please.'  
  
  
  
'Good luck' whispered Faith, and Winter put her hand on his shoulder.  
  
  
  
'We'll cheer for you!'  
  
  
  
'Thanks.' He made his way over to the changing rooms, with many other applicants.  
  
  
  
The changing rooms were crowded. As every house had a vacancy on their team, the rooms were full. All the benches were being sat on, and Aaron had to stand up. He stepped backwards, and accidentally trod on someone's foot.  
  
  
  
'Sorry,' he said, and turned around, to find himself face to face with Jennifer. 'Oh – hi.'   
  
  
  
'I didn't know you were trying out!' she said. 'I'm going for Gryffindor chaser. What Slytherin position are you going for?'  
  
  
  
'I … um …' Aaron was lost for words. He hadn't actually thought about that. He wasn't sure which parts were free, he supposed he should have thought about that.  
  
  
  
But Aaron never had a chance to answer, because at that point Harry started to speak.  
  
  
  
'Shush!' he cried to the crowded room, 'before we start, I just have a couple of words to say to you.'  
  
  
  
Aaron looked at him, and he continued to speak.  
  
  
  
'Before we start, I would just like to clear with you that positions in each of the houses that have become vacant this year. Hufflepuff; one beater; one chaser. Ravenclaw; one keeper. Gryffindor; one chaser, and Slytherin; one seeker; one chaser.  
  
  
  
I'm afraid the fact that we need at least one position filled for each of the houses teams has meant that we are a bit busy,' he was shouting to them, because the students in the stands above were so noisy.  
  
  
  
'I would just like to remind everyone, that whatever happens today, whether you get in or not, you should support your house, and not feel bad. First years should remember they are at a considerable disadvantage, due to the fact they are not allowed private brooms, I'm sorry, but it is not impossible for you to get onto your house team. And last of all – good luck!'  
  
  
  
Everyone in the changing rooms cheered, their spirits high! Aaron and Jennifer joined in.  
  
  
  
'Now,' Harry continued. 'As you leave the changing room, I would like you to come to me, tell me what house you are in, what year you are in, what your name is and what position you will be applying for. Form a line, please, form a queue!'  
  
  
  
Aaron tried to get to the front of the queue, but was jostled to the back by some older students. He found himself to be last in the queue, with Jennifer just a few places in front of him.  
  
  
  
She turned around to see him, and mouthed; 'good luck!' Aaron returned the compliment.  
  
  
  
The line finally dwindled, and after what seemed like an age, Aaron was finally at the front of the queue.  
  
  
  
'Name?'  
  
  
  
'Aaron Bulstrode.'  
  
  
  
'Year?'  
  
  
  
'First.'  
  
  
  
'Quidditch position?'  
  
  
  
'Um …' Aaron had to decide. Now, he had the choice of seeker or chaser. He was okay at catching and throwing, but he was small which was the right build for a seeker. Plus, that had been the position of Harry himself. 'Seeker.'  
  
  
  
'House?'  
  
  
  
'Slytherin.'  
  
  
  
He passed through the door out onto the pitch again, and saw that all the other entrants were lined up on the edge of the pitch, so he joined them. He looked along the line to see how nervous they were compared to him, and saw that it was a definite mix, with everyone in varying states of nervousness.  
  
  
  
'Emily Morecambe, first tryout for Ravenclaw keeper!'  
  
  
  
The girl, Emily, got up from her place at the side of the pitch and went out with her broom. Aaron felt for her, she was the first in a long line of people.  
  
  
  
Her broom! Aaron didn't have a broom! He looked towards Jennifer. [I]She[/I] had a broom, where had she got it from?  
  
  
  
'Jennifer!' he whispered loudly, 'Jennifer!' her head turned from watching Emily Morecambe to see him.  
  
  
  
'What?'  
  
  
  
'Where did you get your broom?' he asked.  
  
  
  
'It's mine,' she replied.  
  
  
  
Aaron was confused. He thought first years weren't allowed their own brooms!  
  
  
  
Seeing his puzzled expression, she said; 'but you can borrow it if you like!'  
  
  
  
'Thank you!' Aaron said back to her. So he was sorted for a broom. He settled back in his seat to watch the rest of the trials. He would worry about his turn when it came.  
  
  
  
The Ravenclaws had had their trials, as had the Hufflepuffs. Aaron had seen some amazing flyers, and some not-so-amazing ones. The good flyers were usually the popular ones, who had friends cheering in the crowds.  
  
  
  
The first girl trying out for Gryffindor looked popular. Her name was Vanessa Travers, and she was very pretty and confident. There was a cry of 'Nessa! Nessa! Nessa!' going up in the crowds.  
  
  
  
He watched her as she performed moves faultlessly, shot perfectly and was just generally brilliant. He was sure there was something he was missing, something the trained quidditch eye could see, but he couldn't see it.  
  
  
  
He looked over to Jennifer who was looking extremely nervous at her good performance.  
  
  
  
Vanessa Travers flew down to the ground with a smile on her face, also looking relieved.  
  
  
  
It was another fourteen chasers later that Jennifer finally got to take her turn. None of the chasers Aaron had seen had quite been as good as Vanessa.  
  
  
  
Jennifer looked like she was going to faint as she took her place in the air. Her start was faulty, with almost missed catches, and unsteady flying.  
  
  
  
But soon she got much more confident, and started to play just as well as Vanessa Travers, better, in fact! There was something about the way she did it that made her look more skilled – or was that Aaron's imagination.  
  
  
  
When she came down, she was also smiling. She handed Aaron her broom, and wished him luck on it.  
  
  
  
'You were brilliant!' he said. Jennifer blushed.  
  
  
  
After that it was time for the Slytherin chasers, but when they had finished it was the seekers. Something jolted in Aaron's stomach.  
  
  
  
People from the stands were getting up and leaving, and most of those had already tried out were also going. Aaron was pleasantly surprised to see that Jennifer was staying. For a moment he had thought it was for him, until he reminded himself that he was flying on her broom.  
  
  
  
'Okay!' Harry shouted. 'Can I have – Iona Tarbuck please!'  
  
  
  
A small thin girl got up from where she sat near Aaron.  
  
  
  
She got onto her broom, and flew up onto the pitch, above where the chasers were throwing the quaffle. She stayed there for a while but then she started circling the pitch, on the watch all the time. In the end it took her half an hour to catch the quaffle.  
  
  
  
It was around the same time with three of the other tryouts, their times ranged from twenty-five minutes to 40+ (they had had to give up on that one, it was becoming too long).  
  
  
  
The next hopeful – Gillian Greeneye – took only ten minutes to find the small winged ball.  
  
  
  
Aaron gulped, because he knew what was coming next. The sick feeling suddenly filled him again.  
  
  
  
'Can I have Aaron Bulstrode please, sixth tryout for Slytherin chaser!'  
  
  
  
Aaron got up, his legs shaking beneath him.  
  
  
  
'Go Aaron!' someone shouted from the crowd. Aaron's thoughts weren't clear enough to work out whether it had been Winter or Faith.  
  
  
  
Holding Jennifer's broom in his hand, he made his way to the centre of the pitch, his teeth chattering.  
  
  
  
'Up,' he said, and the broom came to the right height for him to mount it.  
  
  
  
Again, when he soared into the air, fifty feel to the top of the stands he felt that exhilarating feeling going through his body.  
  
  
  
Every single nerve he had had before was gone for the adrenaline had stolen it away.  
  
  
  
He rose again in the broom, to above where the Slytherin chasers were throwing around the quaffle so he could see the whole pitch.  
  
  
  
'I am releasing the snitch now!' called Harry, and Aaron steeled himself.  
  
  
  
He had never tried to catch the snitch before, never even held one. This was going to be a hard task, perhaps impossible, but Aaron was going to give it a good go anyway!  
  
  
  
For a fleeting second Aaron saw to snitch, but didn't go after it because he knew that as it had only just been let out, it would soon disappear from his sight.  
  
  
  
The Slytherin chasers were throwing around the quaffle, and the beaters were also flying around. The keeper Eleri Jackson, a boy in his last year at Hogwarts, was at his post by the hoops. The Ravenclaw team had stepped in to play against them. The Ravenclaw seeker wasn't playing.  
  
  
  
It was just like a real game – only that Aaron had to catch the snitch.  
  
  
  
He scanned the game, and saw that Ravenclaw had possession of the quaffle. The two girl chasers and the boys made an amazing hawkshead attacking formation and … damn! It was then that he remembered he was supposed to be looking for the snitch, not looking at the game.  
  
  
  
There didn't seem to be anything to do, apart from look around. Fly above the game, looking around.  
  
  
  
A bludger was coming straight at him, and he only noticed at the last minute. He dodged the speeding ball by swerving to the left at the last minute.  
  
  
  
[I]That[/I] was what else he had to do, watch his back.  
  
  
  
He started circling the game, casting his eye around the pitch. He saw nothing.  
  
  
  
Suddenly, one of the Ravenclaw beaters came flying below him at the speed of light and Aaron could feel the rush of air, even though there was a good six feet between them.  
  
  
  
He raised his club and brought it down hard onto a bludger – hard. Aaron heard the crack and knew that it was either going to fly [I]really[/I] far into the distance, or it was going to really hurt someone.  
  
  
  
In a sort of slow motion, the bludger zoomed though the air like a bullet. One Slytherin chaser managed to hang upside down on their broom quick enough to avoid it, but Eleri Jackson – unfortunately – did not.  
  
  
  
The bludger went straight into his forehead, and Aaron saw blood before Eleri fell off his broom, and started a long descent to the ground.  
  
  
  
The crowd screamed. Aaron gasped and almost fell off his broom himself. He saw Harry wave his wand, and Eleri slowed down slightly, but still hit the ground with a thump.  
  
  
  
Soon enough, Madam Lee the nurse came out and from what Aaron could see, took a close look at Eleri and moved him to the edge of the pitch.  
  
  
  
There, she conjured up a stretcher and put Eleri onto it. The stretcher floated off the grounds, Madam Lee moving it along. Soon she was out of sight.  
  
  
  
'Foul!' cried Harry. 'No attacking the keeper unless inside the scoring area! Penalty to Slytherin.'  
  
  
  
'But what about our keeper?' cried one of the Slytherin team.  
  
  
  
'This isn't a serious game,' said Harry. 'Now let's just get on with it, the snitch still hasn't been caught.' He smiled at Aaron. 'Okay, you can go on!'  
  
  
  
The Slytherin chaser took the penalty, and it went through the hoop. Aaron carried his continued his vigil, flying ten feet above the game.  
  
  
  
The Ravenclaw chasers were throwing the quaffle and they were ahead of everyone else, much nearer the Slytherin goals than anyone on the Slytherin team. The closest person was Aaron.  
  
  
  
Aaron knew he shouldn't care about whether they won or not, it was only a trial game, not to do with the league.  
  
  
  
But he couldn't resist the urge to fly in front of the hoops as the chasers came closer by the second. They came nearer, faster, until finally one of the chasers threw the quaffle fiercely, but Aaron whacked it away with the end of his broom.  
  
  
  
The chaser caught it again, and threw it for the second time, but again Aaron kept it away from the hoops. This time a Slytherin chaser intercepted it, and the chase back to the Ravenclaw hoops started again.  
  
  
  
It was at this point that Aaron saw the snitch. For a second it hovered by one of the hoops, but before he could grab it, it flew away. But Aaron was following it.  
  
  
  
He looped the goals and followed it as it swooped through the game, curling through the players. It was coming closer … he had nearly caught it … he had – but too late. It had flown away.  
  
  
  
The Ravenclaws were up the other end of the pitch again, about to score. Aaron flew like he never had before, and managed to reach the Slytherin hoops before any of the team did.  
  
  
  
With a hurried starfish move, the quaffle rebounded off Aaron and was caught by the Ravenclaw chaser. Obviously infuriated by the fact that he hadn't got any goals in, the chaser threw it full force, when Aaron held out his arm, and it ricochet off it.  
  
  
  
Aaron didn't see what happened to the quaffle next, as the snitch turned up again at that moment. This time, he only had to loop one beater once, before the tiny, beating thing was in his hand.  
  
  
  
It felt like some kind of huge beetle with wings, beating in his palm. He held his hand up in the air, and Harry blew the whistle.  
  
  
  
Aaron flew to the ground, grinning broadly.   
  
  
  
'Good time,' Harry said to him, 'fifteen minutes. Well done Aaron, some good flying up there.'  
  
  
  
But some loud squealing coming from the exit leading from the stands to the pitch interrupted Harry. Winter and Faith were running towards him, huge smiles on their faces.  
  
  
  
When they got to him, they practically bowled him over with huge hugs.  
  
  
  
'Well done, you were brilliant!'  
  
  
  
'You kicked butt Aaron, you were amazing! All right, so maybe you were a better keeper than seeker, but you did great, just great.'  
  
  
  
And with an arm round each of his shoulders, Aaron and the two girls began to walk away from the pitch.  
  
  
  
'Um, excuse me,' said a polite voice from behind him.  
  
  
  
Aaron turned around and saw Jennifer standing there.  
  
  
  
'I was just, sort of, wondering if I could have my broom back?' she said nervously.  
  
  
  
Aaron looked at his hand, and saw that yes, he was walking off with Jennifer's broom.  
  
  
  
'Oh, I'm really sorry!' he said, handing it back to her hurriedly.  
  
  
  
'And just one thing,' she said. 'I was wondering if I could kind of … talk to you.'  
  
  
  
'Sure!' said Aaron brightly. 'What about?'  
  
  
  
'Well … I was thinking, um, you could walk with me? Alone?' her cheeks flushed with colour as soon as she uttered this.  
  
  
  
Aaron, trying hard to ignore Faith's slight tittering and Winter's digs in the back, smiled at Jennifer.  
  
  
  
'Fine, okay!' he said, and walked away from Faith and Winter.  
  
  
  
'Come this way,' said Jennifer, and they walked together towards the greenhouses.  
  
  
  
'So what was it you wanted to talk about?' Aaron asked.  
  
  
  
'Oh yes, I, um …' Jennifer trailed off. She flicked her hair behind her shoulders, to push it away from her face. Aaron noticed that her hair was more a golden colour in the midday sunlight, and very long and straight.  
  
  
  
Although her face was still red, she was very pretty, although Aaron dared not tell her so. it was a shame, he thought, that she was so shy. From what he had seen of her these three months, she had seemed quiet, and reluctant to contribute in class.   
  
  
  
A lot of the time, Oregan spoke for her when she could have spoken for herself, and sometimes fought her battles, like he had in their first flying lesson.  
  
  
  
At first, Aaron had thought she was horrible, because Oregan was horrible to him. but now he thought she was very nice- especially after lending him her broom – and that she was a totally different person to Oregan.  
  
  
  
'I wanted to talk about …' she trailed off again.  
  
  
  
'Go on,' urged Aaron.  
  
  
  
'There's something I need to tell you. It's about Oregan.'  
  
  
  
Something inside Aaron dropped. Well, at least it felt like it dropped. Maybe it jolted, he couldn't say.  
  
  
  
It was a mixture of emotions, slight resentment at the mention of Oregan's name, puzzlement – what could he possibly want to know about Oregan? And somewhere, deep down – disappointment.  
  
  
  
'What could I possibly want to know about Oregan?' he asked. He thought he sounded more spiteful than he really was.  
  
  
  
'It's just … well …' stuttered Jennifer, 'he doesn't mean to be quite so horrible to you.'  
  
  
  
'Jennifer! He-'  
  
  
  
'Call me Jenny.'  
  
  
  
'Jenny, then. He's positively awful to me, all the time, and no one else! How can he not mean it?' he shrugged his shoulders and looked at Jenny sceptically.  
  
  
  
'Okay,' she said, regaining some confidence. 'That came out wrong. Yes, okay, he does mean it, but what I mean to say is that he has his reasons.'  
  
  
  
'What reasons?' asked Aaron, curious.  
  
  
  
'If I tell you this,' Jenny said, looking over at Aaron, 'you must try your best to understand. I know that Oregan can be a little – brash sometimes, and he could try harder to be nicer to some people; to you,' she added swiftly.  
  
  
  
'I'll try,' said Aaron, not promising anything.  
  
  
  
'But you also have to promise not to tell anyone, whether you decide to understand or not.'  
  
  
  
'Cross my heart, hope to die …' began Aaron, but was cut short by Jenny's serious expression.  
  
  
  
'This isn't funny!' she said, 'I'm serious Aaron, I've, I've …' there was a break in her voice. 'I've never told any secrets before, not even my own, to anyone except my dad. I'm trusting you, I really am …'  
  
  
  
Aaron had to stop her before she started crying. He hadn't meant to be so harsh.  
  
  
  
'I'm sorry,' he said, putting his arms around her shoulders, 'you can trust me, you really can. Look, let's make a deal. You tell me this secret, and I'll tell you one of mine. Deal?'  
  
  
  
'Deal,' she said, and went to go and sit down on a bench. Aaron followed her. Jenny took a deep breath and looked right at Aaron.  
  
  
  
'Well … Oregan's parents – they were killed by Death Eaters.'  
  
  
  
Aaron sat there for a moment, looking at Jenny. Then finally he spoke.  
  
  
  
'I'm sorry for him. I'm sorry for his loss. But I really don't understand what this has to do with me.'   
  
  
  
Jenny bit her lip. 'That's the thing, it really has nothing to do with you.'  
  
  
  
'Then why-'  
  
  
  
'It's got nothing to do with you [I]personally.[/I] This is why I wasn't sure about telling you. Aaron, I like you, I trust you, I've got nothing against you, but please will you hear me out.'   
  
  
  
Aaron nodded. He had already worked out in his mind the Oregan and Jenny were two very different people. At the moment he was fuming towards Oregan.   
  
  
  
Was Oregan accusing his mother of being a death eater again? What was he saying – that she killed his parents? Aaron was scared and angry, but not at Jenny.  
  
  
  
'He's grown up with no parents,' if only she knew, thought Aaron. 'Knowing only that they were killed by death eaters. You can't deny it, that most of the death eaters were from Slytherin,' Aaron nodded. 'And no one was every caught for their deaths. He blames Slytherin as a whole, he thinks they're all – he doesn't like the house.'  
  
  
  
'But why me?' asked Aaron.  
  
  
  
'Don't you see? You're [I]clever[/I]. Possibly the cleverest student in our year, I wouldn't be surprised. You're nice, you can fly brilliantly, you're honest … all of the things he think Slytherins shouldn't be. He's bitter, but he really is a nice person.'  
  
  
  
'Did he tell you to tell me that?'  
  
  
  
'No!' Jenny almost shouted, and there was fear in her eyes. 'He doesn't know I've talked to you, and you mustn't tell him what I said. You promised.'  
  
  
  
Aaron put his hand on her shoulder again, to calm her down, and looked at her with reassuring eyes.  
  
  
  
'I know I promised, and I will never break a promise to you,' he said. 'But there's one think I want you to tell Oregan, just let it slip. And this is my secret, that you have to promise not to tell either.'  
  
  
  
'I promise,' she said, 'what is it?'  
  
  
  
'I never grew up with parents either,' he said regretfully. 'I don't know anything about my father, except that he's dead, and he died when I was tiny. I don't know my mother's name, but I know she died when I was tiny as well.'  
  
  
  
'Oh Aaron that's terrible, I–'  
  
  
  
'I grew up with my sister. She seems to hate my mum, and won't even mention my dad. She took away all the pictures of them, every trace of them, I've got nothing.'  
  
  
  
There was a very pregnant pause.  
  
  
  
'Were – were they killed?' Jenny asked tentatively.  
  
  
  
Aaron shrugged. 'Who knows!' he said.  
  
  
  
'I'm so sorry.'  
  
  
  
'Don't be,' he said. 'It's not your fault. It's no one's fault. The only person I could ever blame is Millicent, my sister.'  
  
  
  
Jenny looked as though she didn't know what to say.  
  
  
  
'I want you to let Oregan know that, okay?'  
  
  
  
'Okay,' she said quietly.  
  
  
  
'I don't want sympathy, that's not why I want him to know. I just want him to know that I know how he feels. Sort of.' He gave a faint smile. 'Don't worry about me, I didn't want to burden you.'  
  
  
  
She said nothing, only gave him one more hug. Suddenly Aaron heard a shout.  
  
  
  
'Oi! Bulstrode! When you've finished snogging – I mean, when you've got the time, could you come over here please.' It was Winter.  
  
  
  
'Yeah,' shouted Faith, 'we want to talk about your trial!'  
  
  
  
Both Aaron and Jenny were blushing now. Why had Winter had to say that – [I]why?[/I]  
  
  
  
'I'd um, better go …'  
  
  
  
'Yeah,' she said, 'see you round.' Aaron turned and ran over to Winter and Faith.  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
'It was in the year fourteen ninety-three that this law was abolished, because people felt that having a ban over owning termites was useless. Yes, they would chew your wand to pieces but they thought that keeping termites was an unpopular pet anyway …'  
  
  
  
Professor Binns droned on.   
  
  
  
At first Aaron had thought that having a ghost for a teacher would be exciting, but he had soon discovered that wasn't the case.  
  
  
  
It was the beginning of December and the Slytherins were in a history of magic class, being bored to death.  
  
  
  
'Oi!' he whispered to Winter, who was in a stupor beside him. 'Oi, Winter!'  
  
  
  
Winter pushed her head up off the desk, and swept her hair out of her face.  
  
  
  
'Ergh,' she said, 'Aaron, what are you doing that for, I'm going to have to fall asleep all over again now …'  
  
  
  
'Oh Winter, don't fall asleep aga-' but she had leant back down on the desk. He turned around. 'Oi! Faith!'  
  
  
  
Faith, unlike Winter, seemed to be wide awake.  
  
  
  
'What?'  
  
  
  
'Let's wind Binns up … I've got some exploding snap cards here …'  
  
  
  
'Aaron Bulstrode, do you have something to say?' Aaron felt himself blush as everyone turned around to look at him.  
  
  
  
'Um … I … no professor.'   
  
  
  
'I saw you talking Aaron, will you please tell me what was so interesting. Or shall I ask Miss Gettherd?' Aaron started to do some quick thinking.  
  
  
  
'We – we were discussing the values of … um … of owning a termite.'  
  
  
  
'Which are?'  
  
  
  
Suddenly there was a knock at the door.  
  
  
  
'Come in!' said Professor Binns. Phew, thought Aaron, saved by the knock. It was Harry Potter. 'yes?' asked Professor Binns.  
  
  
  
'I was wondering,' began Harry, 'if I could please just borrow Aaron Bulstrode.'  
  
  
  
Professor Binns look at Aaron for a second, and then back to Harry. 'Lucky escape Mr Bulstrode,' he said. 'Yes, you can take him Harry.'  
  
  
  
Aaron looked at Winter and Faith as if to ask why he was being called, but they both shrugged.  
  
  
  
He hoped he wasn't in trouble again, especially as he had tried so hard to stay out of trouble – apart from in history of magic.  
  
  
  
He got up from his desk.  
  
  
  
'Shall I bring my stuff?'  
  
  
  
'Um,' Harry thought for a second. 'Yes, I think you had better, there isn't much time left in this lesson.'  
  
  
  
Aaron picked up his bag and walked to the front of the classroom. As he left he felt everyone's eyes burning into the back of his neck, and he cringed.  
  
  
  
He left the room with Harry and shut the classroom door behind him.  
  
  
  
Harry started to walk down the corridor quite fast, and Aaron had to jog to keep up with him.  
  
  
  
'I need to talk to you about something in my office,' he said, 'it's about your quidditch trials.'  
  
  
  
Aaron's heart leapt – his quidditch trials! It had been almost a month since he had had his trial, and the quidditch games should have started by now. He had heard two sixth year boys complaining loudly about this.  
  
  
  
Aaron hadn't been back to Harry's office since the first day of term, when he had been caught and reprimanded for going out at night time.  
  
  
  
Harry opened the door to let them both into the office and invited Aaron in after him.  
  
  
  
'Come in,' he said, indicating for Aaron to enter. 'Sit down.'  
  
  
  
Aaron sat down on the only chair he could see, puzzled. Harry didn't seem happy, but he didn't look as though he was about to deliver bad news either.  
  
  
  
'About your trial,' he began, 'I've got to tell you – you didn't make the team.'  
  
  
  
Aaron felt gutted. He really did – he had really wanted to make the quidditch team. He had had two teachers backing him, and he had caught the snitch in the quickest time, but still he hadn't made it.  
  
  
  
'Permanently.' Harry said.  
  
  
  
Permanently? Aaron was – yet again – mystified.  
  
  
  
'I'm not sure I understand,' he said to Harry.  
  
  
  
'Well,' began Harry, 'Eleri Jackson, who plays keeper usually, was hit rather hard it the head with a bludger – as you know.  
  
  
  
He was knocked unconscious and I find it rather unfortunate to say that although Mrs Lee insists he will be okay, and will regain consciousness soon, we don't know when.  
  
  
  
You may have noticed that at the trials you stopped some hits going in – some very good hits, from Slytherins best chaser.'  
  
  
  
'I – I honestly can't remember,' Aaron said. He had only been thinking about his seeker performance. Now he remembered it, he [I]had[/I] defended the goals a bit, but he had only done that for a laugh.  
  
  
  
'Can't remember eh? Good player we seem to have here!' Harry laughed and smiled at Aaron. 'But what I mean to say is that while Eleri remains unconscious you will be filling in for him, and you will also be made official reserve.  
  
  
  
Although quidditch teams don't usually have reserves, you did so well it seemed unfair just to tell you you would only be "filling in". Well done, Aaron.'  
  
  
  
Harry clapped Aaron on the back and a stinging feeling went through Aaron's shoulder joint.  
  
  
  
Aaron felt mixed feelings. He had made the team! – sort of.  
  
  
  
'But Aaron,' said Harry, sounding much happier. 'If Eleri decides he doesn't want to go back to his keeper position, or is too unfit – you will become his permanent replacement.'  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
Aaron had never been so torn in his life. It was coming up to the first quidditch game of the season (not to mention Christmas) and poor Eleri was still unconscious.  
  
  
  
Although Aaron wished for him to recover soon, he also had a slight feeling deep down of hope, that Eleri might not be fit enough.  
  
  
  
Temporarily.  
  
  
  
He felt bad just admitting it to himself – he [I]wanted[/I] somebody to not die, certainly not die, but he wanted them to be able not to play – in a nice way.  
  
  
  
Jenny had got the chaser position on the Gryffindor team not surprisingly. For a while there had been a bit of animosity flying around, but that had soon died down. Vanessa Travers had a lot of friends and admirers and they took her rejection personally.  
  
  
  
Aaron had been given a broom, a cirrus fifty-nine, an update on the old nimbuses. Winter and Faith had been most in admiration of it.  
  
  
  
At this point he was out on the quidditch pitch with the rest of the team practising for the first game of the season – Slytherin versus Hufflepuff – the next day.  
  
  
  
Winter and Faith were cheering him on from the sidelines at what times they could. They, like all of his other friends, were hoping that Aaron could play tomorrow.  
  
  
  
'Bulstrode, I want you to do one of those starfish moves again,' shouted captain and chaser Angus Wish. 'Amiee and Arty, stop messing around, we really need to do well this year! I know you're great, just act great!'  
  
  
  
Aaron went back to his position at the goalposts, and waited for the chasers to bring the quaffle his way.  
  
  
  
Soon enough they came speeding towards him, and threw the quaffle towards the goal. Despite the amazing throw, Aaron performed the starfish move Angus had asked for, and the quaffle rebounded off him.  
  
  
  
'Nice one, Bulstrode,' said Angus. 'and nice throw Reece, pity Bulstr – I mean Aaron, is so good.'  
  
  
  
Aaron smiled at the compliment.  
  
  
  
Suddenly Madam Lee strode onto the pitch and called Angus over. Angus flew to the ground and listened to what she said. Before long he called up to the players in the air.  
  
  
  
'Hey guys! Guess what Madam Lee just told me!'  
  
  
  
There were calls of, 'what? What?'  
  
  
  
'It's Eleri,' shouted Angus. 'He's awake!'  
  
  
  
Aaron's heart sank. All his [I]training[/I], all his [I]working.[/I]  
  
  
  
All of the players started to fly down to the ground, but Aaron stayed in the air.  
  
  
  
'Come on Aaron,' said Angus, quite unaware of the effect it had had on Aaron. 'Come and see him!'  
  
  
  
Aaron, not wanting to seem unsporting, lowered his broom and took it back down to the ground.  
  
  
  
The group followed Madam Lee all the way to the hospital wing. Just before they entered, she put her finger on her lips.  
  
  
  
'You must be quiet in here, I have patients recovering!'  
  
  
  
The team nodded at various different times, and walked into the room.  
  
  
  
Eleri was sitting up in bed, eating what looked like a cheese sandwich. When the team entered he looked up and smiled at them.  
  
  
  
'Hi.'  
  
  
  
'You're awake!'  
  
  
  
'You're [I]alive![/I]'  
  
  
  
He laughed slightly. 'Don't act to disappointed,' he said. 'Madam Lee said I was out of it for two weeks!' he suddenly saw Aaron, and politely asked; 'so, you're the one who tried out for seeker, I remember you! You got the position then?'  
  
  
  
'No,' he said. 'I didn't get it. I'm team reserve.'  
  
  
  
'And a brilliant player too,' said Angus, though it didn't make Aaron feel any better. 'Eleri, it's the first game of the season tomorrow. Are you going to be fit?'  
  
  
  
'Probably,' said Eleri, but there was a catch in his voice. Angus could obviously hear it as well.  
  
  
  
'Is there something wrong?' he asked.  
  
  
  
Eleri breathed deeply. 'I can't play, mate. I can't even say I'd love to, because I wouldn't. I've gone off quidditch, and don't say anything, because no one's changing my mind. I'm retiring from the team. I've got my NEWTs this year, and I'm not spending the summer knocked out cold in the hospital wing, I'm not even going to risk it.'  
  
  
  
Angus looked sad, as did the rest of the team, but he nodded his head and said, 'okay.'  
  
  
  
'Thanks,' said Eleri gratefully. 'Knew you would understand. And tell whoever replaces me … tell them – that I wish them all the luck in the world.'  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
'He did [I]what?[/I]'  
  
  
  
'He resigned! Right there, he just did it, he just resigned!'  
  
  
  
Aaron was recounting the events of the hours before to Winter and Faith, and they were listening with rapt attention.  
  
  
  
'Oh well done, I knew you would make it!'  
  
  
  
Both girls hugged him and crushed his ribs.  
  
  
  
'Uh … you're …' he coughed, 'squa-squashing me …' he spluttered.  
  
  
  
'Oh sorry,' they retracted the hug.  
  
  
  
'Yeah,' said Faith, 'we wouldn't want the Slytherin keeper squashed the day before his first match!'  
  
  
  
Fear leaped up inside Aaron. 'Ah, don't scare me – please!'  
  
  
  
Both girls grinned.  
  
  
  
'You'll do fine, we know you will,' said Winter reassuringly. 'But if you want any more praise you've got to come down to dinner with me because I'm famished. Deal?'  
  
  
  
'Deal,' said Aaron exasperatedly.  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
Aaron rolled over in bed, there was someone trying to pull his covers off. He knew it was another one of those "I gotta get out of bed because it's morning" sagas, but every time they just seemed to get worse.  
  
  
  
'Mate, you have got to stop doing this!' he heard a voice say. It was Copper.  
  
  
  
'Lemme go sleep,' Aaron said drowsily.  
  
  
  
'Get. Up. Now!' said Copper. 'you have got to eat before you play.'  
  
  
  
Play! Yes, he had to play quidditch! Why did he always forget these things? [I]Why?[/I] He suddenly regretted eating that huge plate of jelly with Winter a Faith last night.  
  
  
  
Copper drew the curtains back, to reveal the light of day.  
  
  
  
'Eugh, you've been taking tips off Winter and Faith, haven't you?'  
  
  
  
'Ah, the sleeping beauty awakes,' said Copper, with high levels of sarcasm in his voice. Sunlight filled the room and Aaron guarded his eyes with his arm.   
  
  
  
'Argh! Natural light! Didn't anyone tell you vampires can't cope with sunbeams?' Aaron joked.  
  
  
  
Copper turned to Ben, who had appeared. 'His morning sense of humour is just so quaint, don't you agree?'  
  
  
  
'Quaint?' said Aaron in mock outrage. 'Quaint? I will not give that remark the dignity of a reply!' and shut the curtains around his bed with a melodramatic "humph!"  
  
  
  
'Too late,' said Ben, and he heard a laugh coming from outside the curtains. He began to change into his robes and called through the curtains, 'So have any of the other students arrived yet?'   
  
  
  
'A few,' Copper said. 'But none in your year. A couple from the fourth year and loads from the other years. They're all eating downstairs because they were bothered to get up!' he said meaningfully, which was followed by another humph from Aaron.  
  
  
  
'All right! All right! Just let me shut the curtains so I can change!' he pulled the curtains shut and got out his silver and green robes.  
  
  
  
He had only tried them on once before to check the size, but hadn't tried them on since. They weren't too awkward to fly in though.  
  
  
  
Once he was changed, he grabbed his Cirrus and pulled back the curtains.  
  
  
  
'Wow!' said Copper. 'You really look like a keeper!'  
  
  
  
'Thanks,' said Aaron.  
  
  
  
'He looks too small to be a keeper,' said Ben with unexpected spitefulness.  
  
  
  
'Ben!' exclaimed Copper, 'what's wrong with you?'  
  
  
  
'Nothing,' said Ben. 'Nothing wrong with me,' even though there quite clearly was.  
  
  
  
'No! No, I've been listening to your quips all this week and I'm really fed up! I've a good mind to tell Aaron what you've said!' Copper seemed to be quite worked up about something.  
  
  
  
'It doesn't matter,' Aaron said shyly, as he really didn't want to cause a fight between the two best friends.  
  
  
  
'It bloody well does!' said Copper, who was now shouting. 'Do you know what he's been saying about you?'  
  
  
  
'Don't,' said Ben is a low but threatening voice. He put a hand on Copper's arm. 'Don't you dare.'  
  
  
  
'Yes I will dare!' said Copper, now clearly enraged. 'Aaron, all week – no, all [I]year[/I] all he's ever done is go on about you. Says he doesn't [I]like[/I] you, says you're too clever for your own good. Says you should [I]stay away[/I] from Faith, says he's got a hold over her, but won't tell me what it is. I've talked to Faith, she says she hates him, that he won't go away. And he's got this diary, but I can't see what's in it, but I found it once and there were pages on you, Winter and Faith.'  
  
  
  
A dark look crossed Ben's face.  
  
  
  
'You shouldn't have told him that.'  
  
  
  
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wand. Aaron was – temporarily – too shocked to realise what was going on to be able to pull out his wand, and Copper looked as stunned as he felt.  
  
  
  
Suddenly Aaron realised what was happening, and blind panic rose in him. he wanted to be sick, the cruel expression on Ben's face was so [I]apparent[/I] …  
  
  
  
'NO!' he shouted. 'DON'T KILL HIM! [I]PLEASE[/I] DON'T KILL-' but the look in Ben's eyes made him stop again.  
  
  
  
'I'm not going to [I]kill[/I] him,' said Ben, as though one and one made two. 'I'm just going to duel him, for telling blatant lies!'  
  
  
  
'I WASN'T LYING!' shouted Copper. Aaron wished he would shut up, for risk of his life!  
  
  
  
'Yes you were,' said Ben, in the cool, collected voice that had hidden malevolence. 'Okay, so maybe he is a little big for his boots, but I never, [I]ever,[/I] wrote anything about him. And I don't have any holds over Faith, and she DOESN'T hate me! Look!'  
  
  
  
He reached into the trunk by his bed and pulled out a little leather bound book. He opened it roughly and put it in front of Aaron, and flicked through the pages.  
  
  
  
There was nothing on them.  
  
  
  
'It's empty,' said Aaron to Copper with a shrug.  
  
  
  
Copper looked outraged. 'It's not! I [I]know[/I] it wasn't – isn't!'  
  
  
  
'Anyway,' continued Ben. 'I wouldn't kill anyone, I wouldn't kill anyone in my life, you can remember that.'  
  
  
  
He looked at Aaron with sincerity in his eyes.  
  
  
  
'Look, I'm sorry I overreacted earlier but Copper, you know that just isn't true!' he turned to Aaron. 'He only says that because he knows the truth – [I]and he can't handle it.[/I]'  
  
  
  
He stalked out of the dorm.  
  
  
  
'I'm sorry,' said Copper, looking at the floor. 'I'm really sorry. Would you mind if I hang around with you for – for however long it takes.'  
  
  
  
'Sure,' Aaron said – as brightly as he could – 'sure.'  
  
  
  
But even though he gave Copper his vote of support, he couldn't but help wonder what was going on here.  
  
  
  
Why had Copper suddenly snapped at Ben's one remark about Aaron's height? Why did he tel Aaron of all people what was going on?  
  
  
  
And then why would Ben admit to half of what Copper said and deny the rest. He hated to think this but – who was telling the truth?  
  
  
  
There was an easy explanation for an empty diary, spells, enchantments, invisible ink, but why Copper had seen the writing before and not now didn't make any sense.  
  
  
  
He went down to the hall, where Faith and Winter were waiting impatiently.  
  
  
  
'Where [I]were[/I] you?'  
  
  
  
'We just saw Ben walk past looking upset, did anything happen?'  
  
  
  
'I'll explain later,' he said, giving himself a mental note to ask Faith about Ben again. 'It's nothing, but Copper's going to be hanging around with us for a bit.'  
  
  
  
'That's fine,' said Faith, smiling. 'It'll be nice to get to know you better, Copper.'  
  
  
  
Aaron noticed that although she seemed friendly and forthcoming, Copper was a little hesitant.  
  
  
  
'Now Aaron, you've got to eat, you'll be playing quidditch in an hour!'  
  
  
  
The sick feeling filled Aaron again, but this time mixed with exhilaration. In a way he was scared he was going to do something stupid, and he wouldn't be able to cope. How different was a game to a practise?  
  
  
  
He didn't know, but he knew he was going to find out.  
  
  
  
Suddenly people started leaving the hall and Copper, Winter and Faith all looked at Aaron. Aaron grasped his broom tightly in his hand, his palm sweaty.  
  
  
  
'You've got to go and prepare with the team.'  
  
  
  
'You can do it!'  
  
  
  
'All the best, mate.'  
  
  
  
The rest of the team was already in the changing rooms when Aaron came in.  
  
  
  
'Aaron! Come in, sit down!' said captain Angus Wish.  
  
  
  
'Hi Angus,' he said, his voice barely above a whisper. The rest of the team heard this and aahed.  
  
  
  
'Nervous?' asked Amiee Knowles, one of the beaters. She was a very beautiful fourth year with dark skin and braided hair, and had not spoken to Aaron much before.  
  
  
  
Aaron nodded, as his voice had completely disappeared at the point.  
  
  
  
'You'll be fine,' she said, and got up from the bench and hugged him. The team whooped and she called for them to shut up. Aaron realised he was being hugged by a [I]girl.[/I] Hugged. By. A. Girl. Eugh!  
  
  
  
He had been hugged by Winter and Faith a million times before but that was [I]different![/I] Wasn't it?  
  
  
  
He sat back down on the bench on the end next to Amiee, and Angus got up in front of them all.  
  
  
  
'Right,' he began. 'In a couple of minutes, the quidditch season begins, Slytherin versus Hufflepuff. The cup has been won alternately by Gryffindor and Slytherin for the past few years-'  
  
  
  
'We [I]know[/I] this, Angus!'  
  
  
  
'Aaron doesn't!'  
  
  
  
'Okay, okay,' Angus said exasperatedly. 'I was just setting a scene. What I'm saying is that we have to beat the alternate year thing! I want to see your best moves here today, because I know we can do it.'  
  
  
  
The team murmured, though whether it was in agreement or not, Aaron couldn't make out.  
  
  
  
'And I don't want to see any fowling! The other houses have pinned that on us too much over the past few years, and I want pristine playing today so [I]not one[/I] accusation of foul play!'  
  
  
  
Somewhere outside, a whistle blew.  
  
  
  
Aaron got up, his knees knocking.  
  
  
  
'Don't worry kid,' Amiee whispered in his ear. 'I'll keep the bludgers away.'  
  
  
  
The pitch had never seemed this big before, or this scary. And he was sure that the Hufflepuff beaters had been nearly that tall when he had seen them training yesterday.  
  
  
  
There were cheers ringing through the stadium and Aaron walked on at the back of the team, feeling a bit small and clutching his nimbus in his hand.  
  
  
  
Looking into the crowd was difficult as they were at such a height, but maybe if he looked carefully he could recognise those two over there as Winter and Faith, and the boy sitting next to them as Copper.  
  
  
  
There was a shout from behind him.  
  
  
  
'Aaron!'  
  
  
  
Aaron turned around and was surprised to see Jenny.  
  
  
  
'Jenny! Quick, I have to go on!'  
  
  
  
'I can't stay to watch,' she shouted, as Aaron walked ever further away. 'I'm really behind on homework but I bet you'll do really well! Good luck!'  
  
  
  
'Oh,' Aaron said dejectedly. 'Thanks, see you.'  
  
  
  
She turned and ran back through to the school and Aaron's attention was turned to the fact he had walked into Aimee's back.  
  
  
  
'Watch it, kid,' she said affectionately.  
  
  
  
Aaron had always objected to being called "kid" or "cute" or "sweetie" but being called kid by Amiee didn't seem too bad.  
  
  
  
The captains were shaking hands and smiling politely at each other. Then the teams started to walk onto the pitch.  
  
  
  
'After three you may begin,' shouted Harry, grinning at the players. 'No foul play please – three, two … one!'  
  
  
  
Aaron kicked off from the ground, and took to the air – nervousness and happiness coursing through his body all at once.  
  
  
  
'And they're off!' Aaron heard the commentator shout. He didn't know who was commentating, only that it was a girl in fourth year.  
  
  
  
'The snitch has been released! I think we could see it for a second there, but not any more! Let's just hope either O'Brien and Anju can.'  
  
  
  
The quaffle and bludgers were also out, and Aaron flew to his goalposts out of the way as soon as possible. It was interesting watching the game from his point of view as it moved towards and away from him.  
  
  
  
He was in no serious danger yet, as the Slytherin attacking front was quite strong and was managing to keep the Hufflepuff chasers at bay.  
  
  
  
'Maulkin has the quaffle – but it goes to Tawes, Maulkin, Maulkin throws it sideways, it was a clever a move but will it pay off? No! the quaffle is intercepted by Robins and Hufflepuff is in possession again!'  
  
  
  
Robins dodged a bludger and came pelting up to the Slytherin goal end, straight at Aaron.  
  
  
  
Aaron leaned forward on his broom and concentrated only on the quaffle, as Angus had instructed him to do. The red ball came towards him faster and faster as Robins disappeared from his view.  
  
  
  
Whoosh! The quaffle came towards him, but with a flick from the tail of his Cirrus it was deflected, into the hands of Angus, they're captain.  
  
  
  
'And a brilliant save from Bulstrode!' shouted the commentator through the cheers. 'With a beautiful tail flick. Possession back to Slytherin to Wish, Maulkin, Tawes, Wish …'  
  
  
  
Angus was very close to the goal now, and getting closer. But there was something flying ever closer to his head, and Aaron didn't like it. Not one bit.  
  
  
  
'ANGUS!' he shouted. 'ANGUS! THERE'S A BLUDGER-'  
  
  
  
But Amiee was there, and with a sharp crack she deflected the bludger away from Angus and after shouting a hurried thanks, Angus sped towards the goal.  
  
  
  
Aaron saw the Hufflepuff keeper prepare himself for the shot, but it was useless. Angus threw the quaffle clean around the keeper and it sailed right through the hoop.  
  
  
  
'Slytherin score!' shouted the commentator, and a cheer arose from the Slytherin end.  
  
  
  
'Yes!' Aaron did a little celebratory loop on his Cirrus, narrowly dodging a bludger aimed at him.  
  
  
  
Harry blew on his whistle.  
  
  
  
'Oi!' he shouted. 'No attacking the keeper unless within the scoring area! Slytherin penalty.'  
  
  
  
'La la, la la,' Aaron sang a little ditty while gliding through the air, not really concentrating on the hoops, only whether Liam Maulkin would get the quaffle through the goal.  
  
  
  
He did, twenty – zero to Slytherin. But [I]still[/I] no snitch!  
  
  
  
This time when the quaffle was back in the game, the Hufflepuffs regained control of it with renewed determination.  
  
  
  
'Robins, Carver, Robins, Argur, by god, these Hufflepuffs really want to equal the score!'  
  
  
  
She was right, they were flying like bullets down the quidditch pitch towards Aaron, leaving the Slytherin chasers stranded at the Hufflepuff goals.  
  
  
  
Aaron gulped, he was facing three fervent Hufflepuffs who were looking for a goal, and he was standing in their way.  
  
  
  
Finally Argur was hovering in front of him with a resolute expression on his face, holding the quaffle like some kind of weapon.  
  
  
  
He's going to hit me. Thought Aaron. If I don't move, he's going to throw that quaffle, and it's going to hit me.  
  
  
  
But Aaron decided not to move, just to steel himself.  
  
  
  
Argur raised his arm with the quaffle in and threw it with all his might.  
  
  
  
Sure enough – whether or not it was intended – the red ball came flying towards Aaron so fast it shocked him.  
  
  
  
But it was even more shocking when it hit him in the stomach, so hard that it knocked him backwards. He went flying backwards through the air and as he passed the goal he hit his head against the hoop, knocking him silly.  
  
  
  
Through his incoherent thoughts, Aaron could make out he was flying backwards, soon he would start going down, plunging, fifty feet without a broom – for although his Cirrus was in his hand he was not reasoned enough to use it.  
  
  
  
In a last desperate hope, he flung out his hand in the hope he would grab hold of something – and to his great surprise – [I]he did.[/I]  
  
  
  
There was someone holding his hand.  
  
  
  
Despite his illogical state Aaron looked upwards to the stands to get one quick look at the wonderful person who had saved him.  
  
  
  
It was Godfrey.  
  
  
  
Aaron almost fainted at the thought. [I]Godfrey?[/I] had saved [I]him?[/I]  
  
  
  
But after all the stuff he had said in defence against the dark arts – after all he had made fun of him, why save him?  
  
  
  
And with that thought, Aaron blacked out. 


	20. The match

A/N: HARRY POV  
  
*  
  
'Is he all right?' asked Harry, bustling up into the stands where the Slytherin crowd stood. 'How is he? Is he still knocked out?'  
  
  
  
'Still out cold,' said the boy sitting next to him.  
  
  
  
'What happened?' asked Harry. One minute he had seen the Hufflepuff chaser throwing the quaffle – and quite violently, if he could say so – and then Aaron was flying backwards into the hoop!  
  
  
  
'He got hit, really bad,' said a girl with thick black hair, and very striking features. Beside her was another boy and girl, who both looked very white. 'That Hufflepuff beater, couldn't take that Slytherin were winning …'  
  
  
  
'Okay,' said Harry calmly. 'I'm not saying I doubt your word … er …'  
  
  
  
'Faith.'  
  
  
  
'Faith, I'm not saying I don't believe you, but I've got to deal with accusations later. For now I need to sort Aaron out, okay?'  
  
  
  
'Okay,' she nodded, clearly distressed by Aaron's medical state. Harry sympathised, he knew how she felt, he had had friends in this situation.  
  
  
  
'So can anyone else tell me what happened? How did he end up here?' Harry looked around, pleading someone to tell him what happened.  
  
  
  
Faith seemed now to have lost her voice to and retreated into the crowd. Instead another boy stepped forward, a boy that Harry seemed to remember not doing quite as well at his first flying lesson.  
  
  
  
'He got hit,' the boy said. 'Like Faith said, he got hit really hard. He just flew backwards and it looked like he was going to hit the floor but instead of going down he whacked his head and his shoulder on those goalposts. I don't know quite what happened but he just came flying towards me, and I was sitting in the front so when he reached out his hand I just grabbed hold of it.'  
  
  
  
Harry looked at the boy. 'What's your name?'  
  
  
  
'Boris,' he said. 'Boris Godfrey.'  
  
  
  
'Well done Boris,' said Harry seriously, 'twenty points to Slytherin.'  
  
  
  
Harry then leant down to look at Aaron, who although was very pale seemed to be okay. His breathing was a bit shallow and irregular but Madam Lee could deal with that, as she was coming up the stairs at this point.  
  
  
  
'All right,' she said, 'clear the way, clear the way, let me through.'  
  
  
  
She came to face Harry and looked at Aaron lying on the floor. She tutted loudly and bent down to look at him. Her slightly disgruntled expression reminded Harry distinctly of his own school nurse Madam Pomfrey and his own school days (and quidditch injuries).  
  
  
  
'What's wrong with him? Symptoms?' she lifted his head and shushed everyone to listen to his breathing.  
  
  
  
'He got hit in the stomach with a quaffle, flew backwards and hit his shoulder and arm on a quidditch hoop. His breathing's irregular, he's knocked out cold and his shoulder's at a funny angle.'  
  
  
  
'Nasty,' said Madam Lee with a distracted air. 'The breathing should clear up soon, that's just the shock of being hit in the stomach that hard. He'll wake up in his own time, but in the meantime I want to mend his bone – it looks broken – and move him to the hospital wing.'  
  
  
  
'Right,' Harry said.  
  
  
  
He waited until Madam Lee mended the bone and then they conjured a stretcher for Aaron to lie on and took him off to the hospital wing.  
  
  
  
Harry descended the steps back down to the quidditch pitch following after Madam Lee and the stretcher. But as he glanced behind him and looked at the shocked friends all gathered around the space where Aaron had lain, he was sure he heard one of them say to Godfrey a very faint 'thank you.'  
  
  
  
Harry looked around the pitch and saw the two teams had now come down to the ground and were both looking very worried, especially the Slytherins.  
  
  
  
'Is the game going to go on?'  
  
  
  
'At the moment I don't know,' said Harry. 'I have just come over to inform that Aaron was fortunately caught by a spectator on the Slytherin end, so hasn't suffered any perilous injuries.'  
  
  
  
'I didn't mean to … I honestly didn't think I threw it that hard,' said one of the Hufflepuff chasers, Argur.  
  
  
  
'You lying cheat!' one of the Slytherin girls shouted back. 'Of course you meant to throw it that hard, we could all see the expression on your face!'  
  
  
  
'It was a scare tactic,' the Hufflepuff protested. 'Honestly Sir,' he turned to Harry. 'You've got to believe me – I wouldn't have hurt him in a thousand years.'  
  
  
  
Harry didn't reply, even though he felt guilty for it. 'Stop fighting,' he said to them all resolutely. 'Aaron isn't hurt that badly, he'll certainly live to see another quidditch match or three. But I'm sorry, Mr Argur, however sorry you are for that throw I'm going to have to take twenty points from Hufflepuff.'  
  
  
  
'But Sir, I promise, I wouldn't have hurt him, [I]I don't know how it happened![/I]'  
  
  
  
The Slytherin girl let out a derisive snort.  
  
  
  
'[I]You don't know how it happened?[/I] Yeah, and I'm a friendly hippogriff! Why don't you just stick your pleas of innocence up your-'  
  
  
  
'Please – don't fight!' said Harry more firmly. 'We're all upset that Aaron's hurt, but he'll get over it very quickly. Mr Argur, it is possible that you are telling the truth but no one can prove that. We all know how it looks from the outside and … that's all we can judge by.'  
  
  
  
Harry turned on his heel, and bumped into a white faced Jenny coming out onto the pitch.  
  
  
  
'Hello Harry,' she said distractedly.  
  
  
  
'Hello,' he replied. 'I take it you've come to see Aaron?'  
  
  
  
'Aaron?' she asked. She seemed to be out of it a bit.  
  
  
  
'He had a … minor accident, nothing much to worry about. He's just over there.'  
  
  
  
Jenny and Harry turned around to see Aaron, and were greeted with an unexpected sight.  
  
  
  
'I [I]want[/I] to play! C'mon, lemme up!'  
  
  
  
Aaron seemed to be trying to sit up in the stretcher but was being forced to lie down by Madam Lee.  
  
  
  
'I want don't get!' she said, as she tried to hold the struggling Aaron down.  
  
  
  
'Alright then – [I]may[/I] I go and play?'  
  
  
  
'No, you're too unfit. It just would be safe, you're going to come to the hospital wing with me where I can observe you properly!'  
  
  
  
'Unfit?!' Aaron exclaimed. 'I feel fine, I could jump right off this bloody stretcher if I felt like it – and I do!'  
  
  
  
'You aren't going to play,' she said determinedly, performing a spell which produced ropes, tying Aaron down to the stretcher. 'Now stop struggling, this isn't going to be painful and it isn't going to take long!'  
  
  
  
'Excuse me,' Harry said, and strode over to where she was standing.  
  
  
  
'GET ME OFF HERE!' Aaron was now shouting at the top of his voice, determined to attract some kind of attention.  
  
  
  
'I'm dealing with it,' Harry said to him, and Aaron shut up. 'Excuse me,' Harry said to Madam Lee again, 'but could you possible tell me what is wrong with this boy?'  
  
  
  
'Well you've changed your tune!' said Madam Lee. 'a few minutes ago you were insisting everyone had to get out of the way.'  
  
  
  
'Yes,' said Harry, 'but then he was hurt. Now look at him – he claims to be fine!'  
  
  
  
'You can't possible know he's fine!'  
  
  
  
'I'm fine!' Aaron intervened. 'I should know – I'm fine!'  
  
  
  
'You had a broken shoulder, severe concussion and very shallow breathing, or course you're not okay.'  
  
  
  
'He [I]had[/I] a broken shoulder, severe concussion and very shallow breathing,' butted in Harry, 'until you cured them all with magic.'  
  
  
  
'Magic, shmagic!' argued Madam Lee. 'The boy needs rest and recuperation – magic can't do it all.'  
  
  
  
'Look,' said Harry. 'I can still remember the time, years ago, when someone first told me I was a wizard. Those who are used to magic might not realise the impact, but I remember the moment when I found out what I was, and what I could do.' he turned to Aaron and unbound the ropes. 'Aaron, breathe in for me. Deeply.'  
  
  
  
Aaron took a deep breath in and breathed out again.  
  
  
  
'I told you the breathing would go away!' said Madam Lee, but Harry carried on.  
  
  
  
'Aaron, roll your shoulder,' Aaron did as he was told, with no qualms. 'Aaron, do you have a headache? – and I don't want you to lie about this.'  
  
  
  
'No,' Aaron said certainly. 'I haven't got a headache.  
  
  
  
Harry nodded slowly. 'Then I see no reason why the game cannot continue – can you Madam Lee?'  
  
  
  
The nurse shook her head, not saying a word.   
  
  
  
'Fine,' she snapped, 'but he's staying overnight in the hospital wing.'  
  
  
  
'But I'm [I]fine![/I]' Aaron protested.  
  
  
  
'Shush!' Harry said, but at the same time smiling. 'Do what she says, or we'll never be out of this!'  
  
  
  
Madam Lee shot him a black look and Harry winked back cheekily, causing her to look even worse at him.  
  
  
  
Harry grinned, somehow her anger was funny.  
  
  
  
'Go on, on the pitch,' she said to Aaron, who smiled and ran back to the pitch, where he was handed his broom by Faith.  
  
  
  
'RIGHT!' Harry shouted, 'NO ONE MOVE – THE GAME'S STARTING AGAIN!'  
  
  
  
A cheer started in the stadium and Harry blew the whistle three times to indicate the new start of the game.  
  
  
  
Harry saw the teams fly into the air as he released the snitch and bludgers. He flew into the air and took the quaffle with him. When everyone was ready to start, he threw the quaffle into the air and a Slytherin chaser captured it.  
  
  
  
The commentator – a girl whose name was Rea Moon – took her place again and held the magical megaphone to her mouth.  
  
  
  
'And the game starts again!' she said into the megaphone, and Harry quickly scooted out of the way on his broom. 'Intercepted by Slytherin chaser Angus Wish and those Slytherins are taking it up the Hufflepuff end!  
  
  
  
'And just to remind you that the score currently stand at twenty – none to Slytherin and … oh hang on … wait … thirty – none to Slytherin!'  
  
  
  
The Slytherin end erupted with cheers and Harry saw Aaron circle the Slytherin goalposts in a figure of eight twice, punching his fist in the air.  
  
  
  
'And it's coming back to the Slytherin goalposts, those Hufflepuff chasers are really determined to equal the score!'  
  
  
  
The chasers flew right up to the goalposts and whilst Argur and the other chaser distracted Aaron, Robins headed for the posts.  
  
  
  
They're going to score, thought Harry, they're going to get one back. But suddenly through the grasp of the two Hufflepuff chasers Aaron flew, looped them once and managed to zoom to the hoops in time to catch the quaffle. Even from fifty feet, Harry could see the grin on Aaron's face.  
  
  
  
He's got a real talent, thought Harry.  
  
  
  
But then something else distracted him, something that happened from the other end of the pitch. There seemed to be some kind of kafuffle in the air and from it emerged Sameej Anju, Slytherin seeker, holding the tiny beating snitch in his fist.  
  
  
  
'And it's a Slytherin victory!' shouted Rea Moon, 'the first game of the season goes thirty – nothing to Slytherin!' 


	21. Out of the bag

A/N: AARON POV  
  
*  
  
Aaron felt like a sardine. Or maybe a tuna. He never understood why people said they felt like a sardine when they got squashed, it was [I]actually[/I] tuna fish that did all the jumping over waterfalls.  
  
  
  
But in this case the waterfall they were jumping they were jumping over was the Hogwarts entrance hall and the lovely clear stream they needed to get to was the Slytherin common room.  
  
  
  
The big scary grizzly bear in this case was Madam Lee, ironically enough, who was looking for Aaron to put him in the hospital wing overnight.  
  
  
  
As soon as the game had finished Aaron had come down off his broomstick elated and jubilant over Slytherins victory.  
  
  
  
But there in the distance – a figure was heading straight for him, determination in her step and a discouraged look on her face.  
  
  
  
You never could have thought a school nurse could look more threatening.  
  
  
  
So, quick as a flash, a sudden huddle of Slytherins (some he knew and some he didn't but he wasn't going to question anything, the boy nearest him had a stature not dissimilar to a troll) gathered around him and hid him from view.  
  
  
  
He could hear a shrill voice from outside calling his name but he daren't say anything, and shrank further into the crowd. He wasn't exactly a giraffe, so it wasn't hard to hide him.  
  
  
  
So here he was, being shoved from pillar to post – or maybe sharp shoulder blade to bony elbow was more appropriate – feeling a lot like a common type of fish and hoping that the school nurse wouldn't discover him.  
  
  
  
'You all right in there Aaron?' he heard Angus shout from outside the crowd.  
  
  
  
'Bmph smmnn,' said Aaron, feeling ever more the idiot. Bit squashed has never sounded less like "bit squashed".  
  
  
  
'Can't hear you in there mate,' Angus shouted back, 'must be a bit squashed. Don't worry, we'll be there in a minute and then we can start the party.'  
  
  
  
Suddenly he saw some new figures emerge into the centre of the crowd, three figures that he recognised and was very glad to see.  
  
  
  
'Copper, Winter, Faith! So nice to see you! Hope it isn't too much of a squeeze!'  
  
  
  
'Are you kidding?' said Copper in a thin voice, 'I feel like a bloody sardine in here!'  
  
  
  
'I was just debating that idea myself, but really I likened the situation much more to being a tuna jumping over a waterfall than a sardine,' said Aaron thoughtfully.  
  
  
  
'It's a salmon,' said Winter.  
  
  
  
'What?'  
  
  
  
'It's salmon that jump over the waterfalls, usually only to be faced by the grizzly bears.'  
  
  
  
'Oh,' said Aaron, disheartened, 'so you mean my philosophical ramblings about tuna were completely pointless?'  
  
  
  
Winter nodded sadly. 'Unfortunately yes. But it was a great theory, and very novel, I've never heard of anyone philosophically rambling about tuna before. Plato would be proud.'  
  
  
  
'Why thank you,' Aaron said graciously.  
  
  
  
'You know, you two have completely gone off the point here,' interrupted Faith. 'And I tell you, I didn't squeeze all the way into the centre of this crowd for nothing so I'm going to say what I meant to. AARON! YOU WERE AMAZING!' she reached over to give him a hug through the crowd and only managed to skin the top of his head.  
  
  
  
'Thank you Faith,' he said sincerely,' my head fully acknowledges and accepts the compliment.'  
  
  
  
'She's right,' said Copper, 'okay, so maybe she half deafened me but it's true, you were brilliant Aaron!'  
  
  
  
'Yeah, what on earth was there to be so worried about?' chimed in Winter, but then she added – 'on second thoughts, don't answer that.'  
  
  
  
'Are you feeling all right now?' asked Faith.  
  
  
  
'I'm a little bit shaky but not bad enough so that I have to visit the hospital wing,' replied Aaron.  
  
  
  
'Oh yes,' said Copper in a guilty tone that sounded as though he had forgotten to tell Aaron something. 'Whatever you do mate, don't go near that madam Lee.'  
  
  
  
'Do you think he's hiding in the middle of a crowd for [I]fun[/I]?' Faith asked.  
  
  
  
'Well hiding in the middle of a crowd,' Aaron said, 'is certainly guaranteed to be more fun than what she's got planned for me.'  
  
  
  
One hour later Aaron was well into the swing of the party and enjoying himself thoroughly.  
  
  
  
As soon as they had arrived safely in the Slytherin common room (password now Ursa Major) they discovered that some kind soul had provided them with food, drinks and several party aids.  
  
  
  
When Aaron asked how it had got here, Angus had just given him a wink and said 'Dolcy,' as if "Dolcy" could explain it all.  
  
  
  
Aaron didn't ask who or what Dolcy was.  
  
  
  
Winter rushed over to the table at once and squealed as she picked up some bottles.  
  
  
  
'Yes! Butterbeer!'  
  
  
  
'Butterbeer!' Faith exclaimed and took a bottle from Winter.  
  
  
  
'Butterbeer?' Aaron asked confusedly. Again he felt slightly out of things – it was funny how he had grown up in the magical community and yet knew so little.  
  
  
  
The two girls and Copper gasped at him open mouthed. 'You've never tried butterbeer?'  
  
  
  
'Never.'  
  
  
  
'[I]Never?[/I]'  
  
  
  
'That would be the general gist of it, it would seem!' he said.  
  
  
  
'You've never [I]lived[I/]!' said Faith, and handed him a bottle.   
  
  
  
He unscrewed the lid and put the neck of the bottle to his mouth, and his mouth was suddenly filled with a warming sensation.  
  
  
  
It was hard to describe, really, but it was definitely very nice. It made the bitter December afternoon (fast turning into evening) seem even nicer and Aaron took the bottle away from his mouth and smiled to his friends.  
  
  
  
'You like it?'  
  
  
  
'I love it! Come on, let's go celebrate!'  
  
  
  
In the middle of the room a group of boys Aaron didn't know were setting off some of Dr Filibusters no-heat, wet-start fireworks, some others were blowing droobles bestest best blowing gum version 2 point four, filling the room with little multicoloured rainbows all the colours of the spectrum just hovering near the ceiling.  
  
  
  
Aaron had never felt quite so contented as the party got more into swing and everyone was in high spirits.  
  
  
  
Aaron had never had so much fun in his life.  
  
  
  
As he finished of his – how many had he had now? – butterbeer and put it down, he was handed another bottle.  
  
  
  
'Thanks!' he said with a smile and turned to see the person who had handed it to him. It was Amiee Knowles who he found smiling back at him.  
  
  
  
'Drink this,' she said with a wink, 'it'll make the evening seem a whole lot better.'  
  
  
  
Aaron was going to say that he had already had quite a lot of butterbeer that evening but thought – ah, what the hell? – and took a swig of the stuff in the bottle.  
  
  
  
It definitely made an impact, to say the least.  
  
  
  
'This isn't butterbeer!' he said after he had got over his coughing and spluttering.  
  
  
  
'I know,' Amiee said, 'and I shouldn't really be giving it to you, but you're a cute little charmer and if you stick to that amount you'll be fine. I've got a store of it under the table, I only give it to my favourite boys.'   
  
  
  
She smiled cheekily but Aaron knew that only the fact he was so small made her think he was cute. Still, he had no objections!  
  
  
  
'No thanks, it hurts my throat!'  
  
  
  
'The bottle's not full, and take another sip, it'll taste much better.'  
  
  
  
Aaron slowly lifted the bottle to his mouth and took another sip. True, it tasted better this time, and the fact that his eyes weren't watering and his throat burning made some of the taste come through. To be honest, he could see the attraction in it.  
  
  
  
'It's nice,' he said.  
  
  
  
'Knew you'd like it,' Amiee said, and went off to join some of her other fourth year friends.  
  
  
  
'Fudge flies!' he heard Angus shouting, 'I've got about a thousand here, that'll be four each approximately, if you can catch 'em!'  
  
  
  
He stood up on the table in front of the fire and started throwing the tiny brown sweets into the waiting crowd of Slytherins, who all started grabbing for them.  
  
  
  
'Right,' I'm not missing out on this one,' said Aaron, and he, Winter, Faith and Copper leapt forward to catch their fair share.  
  
  
  
Aaron ate his last fudge fly and finished the last of the liquid in the bottle. He didn't know if it had been him, but the drink Amiee had given him had tasted nicer the longer he drank it.  
  
  
  
It was true that the party seemed better now, more alive. Aaron felt much more awake than earlier and just wanted to jump around, grinning his head off.  
  
  
  
Where had Amiee said she kept the spare bottles? Oh yes, under the table. Right, he was going to find some more.  
  
  
  
'Scuse me,' he said to Faith, Winter and Copper and walked over to the table. Getting down on his knees he looked under the table and saw a couple of brown cardboard boxes.  
  
  
  
He reached his hand into one and pulled out another bottle. From the outside it looked just like a plain butterbeer bottle but as soon as Aaron drank from it he knew it was the same stuff as he had had before.  
  
  
  
The party continued, with everyone eating and eating, watching the antics by some of the older years with special effects sweets and tricks.  
  
  
  
Aaron continued to drink the stuff, and even though some of the older students were performing the students they had performed two hours ago, seemed a lot funnier.  
  
  
  
'Right!' someone shouted, 'where's the team?'  
  
  
  
Several people jumped forward and Faith nudged Aaron forwards slightly. Aaron stepped forwards but suddenly fond he couldn't stop. He suddenly found himself flat on the floor.  
  
  
  
'Ha ha ha,' Aaron burst out laughing, he had fallen on the floor! 'Tee hee, ha ha ha ha!'  
  
  
  
'Is he … you know?' he heard someone standing above him say to the person next to them.  
  
  
  
'As a newt,' came the reply.  
  
  
  
'I'm not a newt!' Aaron said, and he suspected much louder than he thought.  
  
  
  
'The team?' someone called again. 'Can I have the team up here please?'  
  
  
  
'Hang on,' Angus called back, 'we have a small problem down here.'  
  
  
  
'Small?' Aaron cried, 'small? Is someone calling me small?'  
  
  
  
'No,' Angus said, 'not directly. But you're certainly too small to be drunk. Who gave you the alcohol?'  
  
  
  
'Alcohol?' Aaron asked, bemused. 'Amiee didn't give me any alcohol! Oops …' he said quickly, and covered his mouth with his hand.  
  
  
  
'Amiee Knowles?' Angus asked. Aaron nodded. 'Right,' said Angus brusquely, 'we're going to have to get you sorted out before any teachers come.'  
  
  
  
'You're going to have to get [I]what[/I] sorted out, Mr Wish?'  
  
  
  
Deadly silence fell over the entire room, and everyone stared as Professor Severus Snape entered the room, closely followed by Madam Lee.  
  
  
  
Students moved to either side to clear a path to where Aaron and Angus were.  
  
  
  
'I am, as is everyone else in here, glad that Slytherin won the quidditch match. In fact I will congratulate the whole team on their brilliant effort on the pitch.  
  
  
  
'But as much as I hate to break the party up, I must point out that it is one o' clock in the morning and we all have lessons tomorrow. Some of you – potions, in which I will be sincerely disappointed if anyone dares to fall asleep.  
  
  
  
'If I could ask everyone to please depart from the common room without a fuss, and may I just applaud – again – the performance of the Slytherin quidditch team. Especially in the face of adversity or … [I]foul play[/I].'  
  
  
  
A cheer went up around the room until Professor Snape hushed them and they all went their separate ways. Winter, Faith and Copper took one look at Aaron and left quickly, knowing that if they stayed Professor Snape would only send them away.  
  
  
  
Angus started to walk up the left staircase but Professor Snape called him back.  
  
  
  
'Come back Wish,' he said abruptly, 'I want to know – who is responsible for the … the state he is in?'  
  
  
  
'Professor Snape,' Angus began to explain, 'it wasn't me, it was … I don't know where Aaron got the alcohol from – but surely it can't be any harm? I mean, there are magical ways to cure a hango-'  
  
  
  
'It can't be any harm?' said Professor Snape, 'it can't be any harm? Angus, there has got to be a [I]hangover[/I] before we can cure it, and until then he's going to stay as drunk as a skunk! And plus, there's the small barrier of underage drinking we have to face here. He's got to go to the hospital wing earlier as he promised and everything – that's [I]everything[/I] that he's suffering from will go down on record. And do you know who will look at those records? Dumbledore, that's who. And do you know whose job is on the line here? Mine – that's whose! Now, do you know who gave him that alcohol?'  
  
  
  
Angus paused for a moment and then shook his head. 'No,' he said. 'No Professor, I don't know who gave Aaron the alcohol.'  
  
  
  
'Well,' said Snape, 'all right. But if you have any sudden brainwaves, I'll be in my office. You may go to bed now. Madam Lee, help me get Aaron to the hospital wing.'  
  
  
  
Madam Lee lifted the now very sleepy Aaron up by levitation using her wand, and started to direct him out of the room and towards the door.  
  
  
  
'Be careful where you point his head,' said Snape, 'I don't want him upchucking on my robes, they're new.'  
  
  
  
They brought Aaron out of the Slytherin common room and out into the underground corridor.  
  
  
  
Aaron could hardly tell where he was being taken and was very glad that he didn't have to walk, as he wasn't sure if his legs would have been able to take it – they felt like jelly that had just got off a roller coaster.  
  
  
  
They stopped outside Snape's dungeon where he entered and came out with some purple potion in a glass phial.  
  
  
  
'You keep leading him,' Snape said, 'this hangover cure potion can be nasty when you spill it.'  
  
  
  
'Is it corrosive?'  
  
  
  
'No, it just smells like a hippogriff's backside.'  
  
  
  
'And you'd know this how?'  
  
  
  
'Oh ha ha, very funny. Let's just get the boy up to the hospital wing.' Even through his jumbled state of mind Aaron thought he could see his potion master's cheeks turn red.  
  
  
  
The rest of the journey was a blur to him but he knew when they had reached the hospital wing because of the sudden whiteness.  
  
  
  
He felt himself being lowered onto a hospital bed and he lay there for a while. Professor Snape bid Madam Lee good night and left, and Madam Lee dressed Aaron in some pyjamas. On normal occasions he would have resisted but he felt so sleepy he just couldn't be bothered.  
  
  
  
After he was in pyjamas he was laid back down on the bed, and there he fell into a deep sleep.  
  
  
  
His head hurt more than words could say. It throbbed, [I]over[/I] and [I]over[/I] and [I]over[/I] again.  
  
  
  
He opened his eyes, expecting to see the morning light and feel another rush of pain, but when he opened them he was pleasantly surprised to see that it was still the middle of the night, if edging a little towards morning.  
  
  
  
He shut his eyes, willing himself to go back to sleep but he knew that with the state of his head being as it was, sleep was a no go zone.  
  
  
  
Was he ill? It had been ages since he had had the flu and his head hadn't felt as bad as this. He didn't remember being ill, but he [I]was[/I] in a hospital wing.  
  
  
  
He looked to the bedside table and shouted out loud.  
  
  
  
'Argh!'   
  
  
  
He clamped his own hand over his mouth, which jolted his head and made it do an extra hard throb. But at that moment he was a little distracted, for sitting next to him on a chair by the bed was a small creature with huge ears and a long round nose.  
  
  
  
On the bedside table there was also the large bottle Snape had got for him earlier, but Aaron was so distracted by this creature that he only took note of it for a second.  
  
  
  
The small creature gasped slightly and held out an apologetic hand.  
  
  
  
'Dolcy is sorry!' said the creature in a high-pitched voice. 'Dolcy does not mean to offend!'  
  
  
  
'Don't hurt me,' Aaron said, not concerned over whether he was offended or not, he just didn't want to get hurt by this creature.  
  
  
  
A tear fell from her eye (Aaron assumed it was a her). 'No!' she said, too loudly for comfort in the silent hospital wing. 'Dolcy will never hurt Aaron, Dolcy will never hurt [I]anyone.[/I] Dolcy only wants to help!'  
  
  
  
'What are you?' asked Aaron. He knew at once that he had sounded rude but the combination of fear and pain had shortened his temper somewhat.  
  
  
  
'A house elf,' said Dolcy proudly. 'Dolcy is born to serve at Hogwarts, Dolcy will serve Hogwarts all her life. Dolcy's mother and father serves Hogwarts, and Dolcy must keep up the family tradition.'  
  
  
  
'A house elf?' Aaron asked, puzzled.  
  
  
  
'That is me,' Dolcy said, and Aaron got the feeling she was quite shy. 'Dolcy has been asked here by Madam Lee to see if you wake up. Dolcy has a job to do for Aaron, and he must promise to stay still.'  
  
  
  
'Stay still? What are you going to do?' Aaron was a little scared now.  
  
  
  
'Don't be scared!' she exclaimed, now seeming upset again, 'Dolcy is only having to feed Aaron his medicine, Madam Lee is saying it is not too bad.  
  
  
  
'Will it get rid of my headache?'  
  
  
  
'Madam Lee is saying to Dolcy it is to cure Aaron's hanging-over.'  
  
  
  
'Hangover cure? Yes please!'  
  
  
  
Dolcy reached over for the bottle. 'One thing though, mister Aaron,' she said, 'Madam Lee is saying that is does not smell very nice.'  
  
  
  
'I don't care,' said Aaron greedily,' just as long as it takes away the blasted headache.'  
  
  
  
Dolcy reached over to the table with an "I told you so" expression and put a peg on her long round nose.  
  
  
  
She took the bottle again and pulled the cork off. After a whole nothing seemed to happen, and then a foul smell filled his nostrils.  
  
  
  
It was FOUL – to say the least. Aaron had never smelt anything quite so … disgusting. He had heard once about a plant that smelt of rotting flesh to attract flies.  
  
  
  
He coughed, and Dolcy smiled slightly in amusement. 'Dolcy cannot smell the bad smell, mister Aaron.'  
  
  
  
'Be glad for it,' he spluttered, 'quickly, just bring it over here. Do I have to drink the lot?'  
  
  
  
'All of it. Dolcy is sorry.'  
  
  
  
Aaron lifted his head, which hurt but he knew this potion would help. Dolcy tipped the bottle forwards, and Aaron prepared himself for some [I]very[/I] nasty tasting medicine.  
  
  
  
The medicine, in fact, was very sweet. So maybe it didn't have quite the same tasting effect as butterbeer, but it was like a mixture of sugar and butter. Aaron was actually quite disappointed when he had finished it.  
  
  
  
'You got any more?' he asked Dolcy.  
  
  
  
'Dolcy is thinking Aaron has gone mad,' said the elf, who Aaron actually found himself getting quite attached to, 'Dolcy has no more. Is Aaron feeling better?'  
  
  
  
'Mm,' Aaron sighed, 'much better, thankyou. But wide awake.'  
  
  
  
'Dolcy is awake too,' she said. 'Dolcy is so used to working in the night and seeing her parents in the daytime she does not need much sleep. Sometimes it can be handy when I am called.'  
  
  
  
'Called?'  
  
  
  
'Dolcy is not really supposed to, but Dolcy knows some students in Hogwarts. Sometimes she … sometimes she even does favours for them,' she whispered the last part.  
  
  
  
Suddenly Aaron remembered what Angus had said earlier that very evening. Or was it yesterday now? He had said, "Dolcy".  
  
  
  
'Do you know Angus Wish?' he asked her.  
  
  
  
'Oh yes,' she replied,' Dolcy is knowing her Angus very well; Dolcy had been knowing Angus for a long time. She does him favours, like fetching him food. But Aaron mustn't tell nobody for Dolcy does not want to get in trouble'  
  
  
  
'I won't tell a soul,' said Aaron, 'I think you're rather nice.'  
  
  
  
He wasn't sure, but he [I]think[/I] Dolcy may have blushed.  
  
  
  
'You is making me blush mister Aaron …'  
  
  
  
'Well you are very nice, and you seem to like the night, as I do. do you work here?'  
  
  
  
'At Hogwarts? Yes, Dolcy works here at Hogwarts.'  
  
  
  
'No, I mean in the hospital wing.'  
  
  
  
Oh yes,' she nodded her head vigorously, 'Dolcy works here. Her parents are working in the kitchen but Dolcy thinks it be too hot in there. I likes to help Madam lee make the people better so I works here. Even though I knows Madam Lee uses me only for bad work or night work that no one will do Dolcy still loves what she does.'  
  
  
  
'Do you bring food?'  
  
  
  
'You mean … does Dolcy give food to the students?'  
  
  
  
'To parties and things.'  
  
  
  
Dolcy rubbed the tip of her ear in an embarrassed way. Aaron laughed softly.   
  
  
  
'That's an odd habit.'  
  
  
  
'Does it annoy Aaron?'  
  
  
  
'Not at all!' he said warmly, 'I think it's kind of sweet really … for a house elf.'  
  
  
  
'Well that is Dolcy's name, to be sweet. Dolcy's dad is telling Dolcy that her mum insisted on this name. "My child will be called Dolcy!" Dolcy's mum is saying. "For it means sweet in the ancient language of the house elves."'  
  
  
  
'Your mother is a forceful lady – sorry – house elf?' Aaron asked.  
  
  
  
'My mother has been through troubled times sir,' Dolcy said darkly. 'It is all happening before Dolcy is born, of course, but Dolcy knows what is happening because her dad is telling her.'  
  
  
  
'Troubled times … there are far too many of them around,' Aaron said deeply.  
  
  
  
'Cheer up sir,' said Dolcy, 'or you will be giving Dolcy a headache!'  
  
  
  
Aaron gave an apologetic smile. 'Sorry. I'm a little cynical.'  
  
  
  
'You must not be cynical,' scolded Dolcy, 'oh no, that is a [I]bad[/I] thing mister Aaron. Always look up, always keep your chin up, that is what Dolcy's parents are saying.'  
  
  
  
Suddenly the door began to edge open and a whisper was heard through it.  
  
  
  
'Dolcy!' Madam Lee said in a brusque tone, 'come out of there. Stop keeping the patients up.'  
  
  
  
'Sorry,' Dolcy said, and started playing with the tip of her ear again. 'Dolcy has to go,' she hopped off the chair and gave a small wave as she left the room.  
  
  
  
Aaron lay back and looked at the ceiling. He remembered a book he had read a while ago – [I]Sophie's World.[/I]  
  
  
  
In it, it had described how the world was a rabbit being pulled out of a magicians hat, and everyone living on it was just little fleas and midges in its fur. Everyone starts out on the tip of the fur, but as you grew up you slid further and further down until you were burrowed deep in the fur of the rabbit, not bothering about things and accepting them the way they were. Aaron never wanted to be like that. He wanted to always be hanging onto the tip of the fur, trying to look right into the magicians' eyes.  
  
  
  
He was going to find out more about his mum and dad if it killed him.  
  
  
  
'Merry Christmas!'  
  
  
  
'Isn't it just.' Aaron smiled and sat up in bed, looking towards Copper.  
  
  
  
It was Christmas day, two days after Aaron had left the hospital wing and met Dolcy for the first time. He was astonished to see he had a bundle of presents as usually he hardly received any.  
  
  
  
There was always one from Elsie, and one from Millicent. When he had been younger he remembered vaguely receiving parcels from Peru from someone called Auntie Buffy and Uncle George.  
  
  
  
But then even that source of presents had faded away as Millicent told him that first uncle George had died, and auntie Buffy just after him.  
  
  
  
But only Elsie and Millicent were his constant source of presents. Aaron had to say – Millicent might have a heart of steel but she gave him presents every birthday and Christmas.  
  
  
  
'Have you opened your presents yet?' he asked.  
  
  
  
'Yeah, I got some stuff, mostly from family. Thanks for the invisible ink though, mate!' Copper smiled.  
  
  
  
'That's okay. D'you think I should open my presents now?'  
  
  
  
'Why not? It's Christmas, after all!'  
  
  
  
'Okay then,' Aaron said apprehensively.  
  
  
  
At the end of the bed he could count over five presents and some kind of scroll thing. A strange owl also sat on the window ledge. Aaron had not noticed it before.  
  
  
  
'It's been there since this morning,' Copper said, when he saw Aaron glancing towards the owl. 'It flew in with that scroll.'  
  
  
  
'Odd,' said Aaron, 'it doesn't look like any owl I know.'  
  
  
  
He reached out to take his first present. It was from Millicent. He felt it and it was hard, rectangular and about two inches thick. He tore the wrapping paper off and saw that inside was some vanilla toffee fudge.  
  
  
  
'Who's that from?'  
  
  
  
'My sister.'  
  
  
  
'I thought you said she was a cow.'  
  
  
  
'She is. But apparently she it would seem that she's starting to show traces of a heart.'  
  
  
  
'Open another one, go on!'  
  
  
  
Aaron reached for one wrapped in navy blue paper with moons and stars on the outside. The stars were twinkling in a beautiful way.  
  
  
  
The parcel was quite long and hard down one side. It felt like one half was made from something soft, and one bar of – wood, was it? – went across one side.  
  
  
  
'Who's that one from?' Copper asked.  
  
  
  
Aaron turned the label over and read it.  
  
  
  
'It's from Faith.'  
  
  
  
He tore the blue wrapping paper off, feeling guilty that he was ripping straight down the middle of the twinkling stars.  
  
  
  
Inside was a beautiful peacock feather quill, very long and very colourful. The blues and greens swirled in eye patterns as if they were watching his, and the quill itself was striking.  
  
  
  
There were also some different inks enclosed inside, and Aaron experimented with them on a piece of parchment.  
  
  
  
'Cool!' Copper explained when he started writing his name in calligraphy in the burn effect quill. This quill spread an acid-like substance wherever you placed the nib and burnt a bit through the parchment. As long as you didn't make holes – because then the parchment would fall through – it had an amazing effect.  
  
  
  
He also got a "Amusing jinxes to use on your enemies" book, from Winter (who had gone home for the holidays) and a twig-tail broomstick streamliner (Cirrus versions 4-7) from Jenny (who was also absent).  
  
  
  
After a few other small presents (and a rather large present from Elsie – a dress robe that was far too big for him) he came to the odd-looking scroll.  
  
  
  
He opened it up and looked at what was inside. It was [I]not[/I] a present.  
  
  
  
[I]Dear Mr Bulstrode,[/I] it began,  
  
  
  
[I]First of all I would like to wish you a very merry Christmas, and hope your holiday is good.  
  
  
  
But I do have to sadly inform you that for reasons concerning its safety, we at Ollivanders feel it is safer to repossess your wand. You will be invited to the shop and as a Christmas gift to you, you may choose another replacement wand.[/I]  
  
  
  
There was more, Aaron gasped in surprise and horror.  
  
  
  
'What is it?'  
  
  
  
Aaron started to read the letter out loud.  
  
  
  
'Dear Mr Bulstrode, first of all I would like to wish you a very merry Christmas, and hope your holiday is good.   
  
  
  
But I do have to sadly inform you that for reasons concerning its safety, we at Ollivanders feel it is safer to repossess your wand. You will be invited to the shop and as a Christmas gift to you, you may choose another replacement wand.   
  
  
  
It is imperative that you take this advice because, as the wand is legally yours (and we enclose a document with the legal jargon) we cannot force it from you.   
  
  
  
But I will say that by keeping that wand you are endangering lives. May I also add that the Japanese cherry is one of the rarest woods these days, after the tree disease a year ago wiped most of the Japanese cherry population out.   
  
  
  
Your wand is worth a lot of money now, my Bulstrode, and you may receive some money along with your [b]free[/b] replacement wand. If you agree to the terms and conditions send the contract we have also enclosed back as well.  
  
  
  
I must stress that this is a very important thing and it must be done properly. I understand how legal documents must be boring and it is your choice whether you read them or not.  
  
  
  
We here at Ollivanders apologise for the inconvenience and hope you have a marvellous yuletide season, and a happy new year.  
  
  
  
Yours sincerely, Ollivanders.'  
  
  
  
Aaron looked at Copper in a bemused sort of way.  
  
  
  
'Well? What do you think?'  
  
  
  
'I – I don't know,' stammered Copper, 'you're wand's always seemed fine to me … mind you, I don't use it … but you're so clever and powerful, I can't see how that wand would be bad …'  
  
  
  
'I did blow up a table at the beginning of term,' said Aaron worriedly, but also nostalgically. 'But that was just a faulty spell, not the wand's fault.'  
  
  
  
'They can't just take your wand away like that,' said Copper, 'not without properly explaining. Let's have a look at the thing you've got to sign.'  
  
  
  
The two boys read down the contract (meet us at this date … unseen complications with the wand … confidential evidence …) but nowhere did it say what was wrong with the wand.  
  
  
  
'They can't not tell you!' said Copper, outraged, 'Aaron, do Ollivanders keep a check on wands they sell?'  
  
  
  
'They can't possibly.'  
  
  
  
'Then they must have known what was wrong with it when they sold it to you.'  
  
  
  
'Well one thing's for sure,' Aaron said surely, 'they're not having my wand. It's mine, and they said themselves they can't take it away. If it were that dangerous they would have told me. No way, they aren't getting hold of my wand!'  
  
  
  
He grinned at Copper, and for once he was glad it was Christmas.  
  
  
  
They were getting changed to go downstairs and eat the Christmas breakfast that waited for them.  
  
  
  
'Oh no!' said Copper suddenly, and threw his hands up into the air.  
  
  
  
'What?'  
  
  
  
'I can't find my hat!'  
  
  
  
'Oh no!'   
  
  
  
The hat Copper was talking about was no ordinary hat. It was his "lucky" thinking hat. It was a strange hat he had brought to Hogwarts with him.   
  
  
  
[I]The eyes are the window to the soul.[/I]  
  
  
  
This hat could analyse the look in people's eyes and tell whoever was wearing the hat what it meant. Of course, it could only cope with simple emotions like anger, happiness, love, etc … but the makers of the hat were already working on version two.  
  
  
  
This hat was Copper's biggest talking point, and he really loved it. Despite the fact you had to be careful what you thought when he wore it, Aaron had to admit it was very cool.  
  
  
  
'Your thinking hat?'  
  
  
  
'Yes!'  
  
  
  
'Let me think … I don't think I've seen it on the floor. I was wearing it the other day, let me just check in my trunk, I might have put it in there by accident.'  
  
  
  
'Okay,' said Copper, obviously concerned.  
  
  
  
Aaron started to rifle through his trunk, but he couldn't see it anywhere. Still, he had to be sure he didn't have it, so he dug deeper.  
  
  
  
The hat was black, and the only difference was a blue sating lining on the inside. From the outside it just looked like an ordinary school one.  
  
  
  
He felt right to the bottom of his trunk, which wasn't hard because he didn't have a lot of luggage, and then gasped in shock.  
  
  
  
'What?' explained Copper, 'have you found it? Is it okay?'  
  
  
  
'No …' said Aaron distractedly. He brought his left hand out of the trunk and held it in his right. It was covered in blood.  
  
  
  
Copper visibly recoiled.  
  
  
  
'I … don't like blood …' he said.  
  
  
  
Aaron picked up a tissue from the side of his bed. His hand was shaking. He wiped most of the blood off with a tissue.  
  
  
  
'It's okay,' he said, 'that blood's gone. It's only a small cut, it just bled a lot.'  
  
  
  
His hand was sticky and he put his tongue on his palm to see what it tasted like.  
  
  
  
'Eugh!' Copper called out, 'I thought you said it was safe to look you vampire!'  
  
  
  
Aaron laughed. 'I just wanted to see what it tasted like. I've never tasted blood before.'  
  
  
  
'And?'  
  
  
  
'It tastes like metal. And by the way, that's the second time this year you've called me a vampire this year.'  
  
  
  
They both laughed. 'Well, you do give me the ammunition don't you? Recoiling from light and eating blood, what am I going to think?'  
  
  
  
'Hey,' said Aaron genially, 'the weirdness is all part of the package.'  
  
  
  
'Backing away slowly … slowly …' said Copper, grinning. 'And anyway, we're straying from the point here. What cut you?'  
  
  
  
'I don't actually know,' Aaron said. 'Let me just see.'  
  
  
  
He started moving his things around in his trunk, and looked right down to the bottom. And that was when he saw it. Something was glinting.  
  
  
  
He reached down to take hold of it but pricked his finger again. 'Ouch!' he exclaimed.  
  
  
  
'You're not bleeding again, are you?' asked Copper apprehensively.  
  
  
  
'Only a little,' Aaron said, and wiped it away with the tissue. 'I've found what it was. I don't recognise it though. It seems to me right in the lining of the trunk. I'm going to try and get it out.'  
  
  
  
He got out his wand and performed a simple severing charm. The fabric of the inner lining split and Aaron put his hand into the trunk and pulled it out.  
  
  
  
As he held it in front of his and Coppers eyes, neither of them seemed to know what it was. But it was certainly beautiful.  
  
  
  
It was a spinning pointed arrow on a circular base. It was bronze-gold in colour and the arrow was very sharp. You could see that was the part Aaron had hurt himself on.  
  
  
  
It as sawing slightly even though there was no breeze and when Aaron tried to spin it, and it just went round and didn't stop spinning.  
  
  
  
'What is it?' asked Copper in wonderment.  
  
  
  
'I don't know,' Aaron said, and put it down on the bed.  
  
  
  
Fine writing on the back of the arrow said "verilunar-verisolar".  
  
  
  
'Verilunar-verisolar?' Copper asked, perplexed. 'What the hell is that? Where did you get it?'  
  
  
  
'It's not mine,' said Aaron.  
  
  
  
'It was in your trunk,' Copper pointed out the obvious.  
  
  
  
'It must have been put there then,' he said. 'Because it's certainly not mine.'  
  
  
  
But he didn't know that. He didn't know whose it was and at the moment he had no suspicions. How had it found its way into his trunk? If someone had put it there had they seen his stuff? Had they left anything else?  
  
  
  
'I'm going to have another look,' he said, and went back over to his trunk.  
  
  
  
As he began to reach inside however, the door to the dorm opened, and Faith walked in.  
  
  
  
'Faith! You're in here again!'  
  
  
  
'I got fed up of waiting in the common room,' she said, disgruntled. 'I've been in there for ages! What are you doing in here, you slowpokes! Did you get like a million presents or something?'  
  
  
  
'I got distracted.'  
  
  
  
'Oh?'  
  
  
  
'Any idea what a verilunar-verisolar is?'  
  
  
  
She shook her head. 'Not a clue.'  
  
  
  
She and Copper continued to from theories while Aaron looked inside the trunk. After a while he came across something. It was hard to tell what it was, but it certainly didn't hurt him this time.  
  
  
  
'Faith! Copper!' he said, 'there's something else in here.'  
  
  
  
He pulled his hand out and showed them what was in his hand. It was an envelope.  
  
  
  
'Does it have an address?' asked Faith.  
  
  
  
Aaron turned the envelope over. It was quite yellow, old and faded, and a bit crinkled. There was one word on the front of the envelope.  
  
  
  
Millicent.  
  
  
  
It seemed quite fragile so he opened the flap apprehensively. Inside there was a letter and … he gulped. Two rings.  
  
  
  
He took the letter out first. It was ripped straight down the middle, which seemed odd to him. He opened the two pieces and put them together on the bed. Copper leaned over his shoulder to read.  
  
  
  
'No,' Aaron said distractedly, 'I've got an odd feeling about this letter.' Copper retracted.  
  
  
  
He started to read what was on the paper.  
  
  
  
[I]My dearest Millicent,  
  
  
  
I beg of you, tell them, be it him or her. Tell them on the occasion of anything happening to me, because you will be the one I will leave it with. You are my daughter, I can trust you.  
  
  
  
I feel a cold chill in my veins, and I don't know why. It is only two months before the baby comes (I can sense it, I think it is a boy, so excuse me if I call it him).  
  
  
  
I feel sometimes that someone is following me, looking in on what I do, and I don't know what to do. Maybe I am paranoid, but I sometimes think it is happening.   
  
  
  
I often think it is happening, actually. If anything, ANYTHING, happens to me, look after him. And tell him, you must TELL HIM.  
  
  
  
All my love, Maria.[/I]  
  
  
  
Aaron gulped. This was from his mother.  
  
  
  
Maria.  
  
  
  
'Oh my gosh!' he exclaimed, and held the letter to Copper. 'This is amazing! This is …' he had to regain his composure, 'I've found something of my parents'!'  
  
  
  
Faith smiled. 'That's brilliant Aaron. I still can't believe Millicent didn't tell you anything.'  
  
  
  
'Are they wedding rings?' Copper asked.  
  
  
  
'I don't know.' Aaron picked the rings up and examined each of them. There was something written on the inside of each.  
  
  
  
"I promise you my deepest love," said the inside of the larger ring. Aaron assumed it was his father's. The inside of the smaller ring read, "I pledge to you my life."  
  
  
  
'That's so sweet!' Faith said, and looked at the gold bands. 'I wish my parents' marriage had been all that romantic!'  
  
  
  
'How did they get married?'  
  
  
  
'Ever been to Las Vegas?' Faith asked. Aaron shook his head, along with Copper.  
  
  
  
'It's a place in America,' she said dismissively. 'Loads of muggles have weddings there every year, in our country it's kind of famous for being a place for gambling and eloping, although I'm sure it must have other qualities.   
  
  
  
'Well because my grandma is a muggle teacher, we always had muggle links. According to my grandma my parents thought it would be amusing if they went off to Las Vegas and got married in a hotel that's supposed to be a replica of places in Venice.'  
  
  
  
'That sounds okay,' Aaron said.  
  
  
  
'Yeah,' she said, 'apart from the fact they couldn't afford that, so ended up getting hitched in some place where the vicar was dressed like Elvis and they drove off in a pink Cadillac.'  
  
  
  
The three of them looked at each other and burst out laughing. Hebe poked her head out from under the bed where she had been sleeping as if in protest of the loud noise they were making.  
  
  
  
'Come on,' Faith said, still laughing, and they started to make their way down the stairs. As they left the common room, even in the dungeon they could smell traces of the Christmas breakfast that awaited them.  
  
  
  
'I'm going to go to the library tonight,' Aaron said. 'I want to find out what a verilunar-verisolar is.'  
  
  
  
But in the back of Aaron's mind, something was niggling away. There was a reason Millicent had kept that letter. Torn it up, yes, but not thrown it away like she had everything else, he noticed.  
  
  
  
And also, what had she been supposed to tell him? Did his mother want her to tell him if she died, that she was dead? Or was there something else?  
  
  
  
And was it Aaron, or did his mother's letter cast an air of suspicion about her death? 


	22. The second dream and the scream

A/N: HARRY POV  
  
*  
  
'That's a good girl!' Harry exclaimed, as yet again, Daisy picked the blue brick. 'Clever girl!'  
  
  
  
'Takes after her mother then,' Ron grinned.  
  
  
  
Hermione blushed. 'Shut it you!' she punched Ron playfully on the shoulder. 'You rogue.'  
  
  
  
'Ah, but I know you love it.'   
  
  
  
Hermione giggled like a schoolgirl. They leaned forward to meet each other's lips and kissed lightly.  
  
  
  
Harry turned around to watch Daisy playing with the green brick now. He was happy for them, her really [I]was,[/I] but still, he couldn't help thinking…  
  
  
  
'Ah I'm sorry mate,' Ron broke away from Hermione.  
  
  
  
'Sorry for what?' Harry snapped, sounding far more irritated than he had meant to.  
  
  
  
'Don't be angry, Harry.' Hermione put her arm around Ron.  
  
  
  
'I am happy for you,' he said, 'it's just that the only female company I seem to be having recently is Daisy … not that you're not my special girl,' he turned to Daisy and smiled at her. She grinned a huge baby grin.  
  
  
  
'I've got to say you're becoming the regular little babysitter. Daisy seems to have taken to you much more than she's taken to me. I think she's scared of my hair, to be honest.'  
  
  
  
Harry tried to smile at Ron's joke, but he was finding it hard recently. 'I'm sorry,' Harry said, 'it's not your fault I balls up every single relationship I ever have.'  
  
  
  
'Don't worry,' said Ron, 'Ginny's coming back from Australia soon.' He winked tellingly.  
  
  
  
'Ginny hates me!' Harry exclaimed.  
  
  
  
'Ah, you broke her heart years ago, people forget these things!'  
  
  
  
'I don't.' they all knew who Harry was talking about now.  
  
  
  
Hermione stepped forward and took his hand. 'Harry, Cho wasn't for you.'  
  
  
  
'I know,' he said tiredly, 'I [I]know[/I], but it's not like I can forget. Look, you two go out for your meal and enjoy yourselves, Daisy and I will wreck the place while you're gone.'  
  
  
  
She laughed her cute baby laugh.  
  
  
  
'Seeya mate!'  
  
  
  
'Harry, don't beat yourself up.'  
  
  
  
They left and Harry turned to Daisy. 'So I guess it's just you and me Daisy now, eh Daisy?'  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
An hour later, games with Daisy weren't seeming any more intelligent or fun, and although she was a very nice kid, Harry couldn't help but wish himself somewhere else. The Carving Knife, perhaps.  
  
  
  
He covered his face with his hands.  
  
  
  
'Peek-a-boo!'   
  
  
  
But Daisy was asleep.  
  
  
  
He picked her up gently and placed her in her cot, where she rolled over and snored gently.  
  
  
  
'I never knew you were good with kids.'  
  
  
  
The voice was cold, and Harry thought they sounded slightly sarcastic. He turned around to see who was speaking to him, even though he already knew who it was.  
  
  
  
'Ginny!'  
  
  
  
'Yeah, that's right.'  
  
  
  
'I didn't think you were coming back for ages!' he exclaimed. He hadn't. From the way Ron had hinted it he didn't think she would be here so soon.  
  
  
  
'I take it Ron told you that.'  
  
  
  
'Yes, how did you-'  
  
  
  
'Wanted to give you a nice surprise, I guess. He still thinks there's a chance for you and I.'  
  
  
  
'There isn't?'  
  
  
  
'Damn right there isn't.' Harry was surprised by her animosity towards him. But, he thought to himself, love hurts. How would he act towards Cho? But it still made him angry. How could she be so unfriendly when their break up had been so good.  
  
  
  
But then he thought – good for who? When they had promised to be friends, had she been aching inside? When they had hugged, had she been crying over his shoulder?  
  
  
  
'Why are you here?' he asked.  
  
  
  
'I'm here to see Daisy,' she said, pointing towards the sleeping figure in the cot. 'Hermione isn't just my brother's girlfriend, you know. We've always been close. I was the one she first told about Viktor, remember?'  
  
  
  
'Would you…' she hesitated. 'Can you move, I have to look after my niece.'  
  
  
  
'I'm babysitting … I mean, minding her for the evening,' said Harry defensively.  
  
  
  
But Ginny didn't move. 'I've come all the way back from Australia!' she said, and there was an edge of emotion to her voice Harry thought sounded like tears. But he couldn't really tell – no one would be able to tell if they didn't know her.  
  
  
  
'Fine,' Harry said shortly. 'Fine. And a very merry Christmas to you.'  
  
  
  
She didn't return the compliment.  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
'That's good Emma,' Harry shouted to the Ravenclaw chaser, 'just keep playing like that. Anneka, if you and Emma just keep practising that move for the moment. Suranne just wait for them to finish that okay and then you can go back to the hawkshead.'  
  
  
  
Harry was having a training session with the Ravenclaw chasers, but his mind wasn't on what they were doing.  
  
  
  
It was a couple of weeks after Christmas. Harry had seen Ginny once afterwards and the meeting had just been as successful as the first. In other words – it wasn't.  
  
  
  
And last night he had received an owl from Ron asking if he wanted to go down to the Carving Knife for lunch today, and Harry had accepted.  
  
  
  
He was just about as apprehensive as he could get. Ron and Hermione were as close as ever and Hermione was very close to Ginny, so surely Hermione would know how well Harry and Ginny were getting on.  
  
  
  
And as the two youngest, Ron and Ginny had always been a close pair in the Weasley family. Bill and Charlie were a pair, the twins were, Percy didn't seem to mind being an individual, and then there was Ron, always protective of his little sister Ginny.  
  
  
  
No, Harry wasn't looking forward to this meeting. He turned around from where the three chasers were practising, and took out a cigarette from his pocket.  
  
  
  
It was a terrible muggle habit he was trying to give up, but somehow in moment of nervousness or stress it always seemed to reappear.  
  
  
  
'Ouch!' suddenly something that felt very much like an electric shock hit him full in the back of the head.  
  
  
  
He turned around to see Hermione about ten feet behind him, putting her wand back in the pocket of her robes.  
  
  
  
'What you trying to do, kill me?' he asked.  
  
  
  
'What you trying to do, kill yourself?' she replied, pointing at the cigarette he had forgotten to hide. He had assured Hermione only a few weeks ago he had given up.  
  
  
  
'This?' he asked. 'It's none of your business.'  
  
  
  
'It is when your grandad dies of emphysema,' she said, took it out of his hand and threw it into a bush.  
  
  
  
'You're not … [I]angry[/I] at me, are you?'  
  
  
  
'For firing a spark at the back of your head? No, of course not. I just think you're barmy.'  
  
  
  
'No,' he interrupted, 'for … other things. You know what I mean.'  
  
  
  
'I certainly don't,' she said, 'and it sounds like I don't want to either. There's just something I have to talk to you about. I know you're busy, but do you think you could spare a few minutes?'  
  
  
  
'Them?' Harry pointed at the chasers. 'Sure. They can look after themselves for a few minutes. Look,' he began. He was going to get this all out in one go, all this stuff about Ginny. He had kept things from people before, and he had enough sense to have learnt that ninety percent of the time it didn't work. 'If it's Ginny you want to talk about, I-'  
  
  
  
'Oh so you do know what I want to talk about,' Hermione interrupted. 'I'm going to ask you something Harry and whatever the question is, I want you to promise you'll tell me the truth.'  
  
  
  
Harry looked at her suspiciously. She certainly didn't seem angry. In fact, was it him or was she smiling slightly?  
  
  
  
'Okay then,' he said slowly.  
  
  
  
'Well,' she began, 'you can tell me, because I won't tell Ron – although I can't promise I won't be tempted to – but are you and Ginny … you know … together?'  
  
  
  
'What!?' Harry exclaimed. 'Wh – where did you get that impression?'  
  
  
  
'Ginny won't talk to me,' she said in a hurried whisper. 'Well it's just, and you mustn't be angry with me Harry, I sort of thought maybe you two might have got it together and I wanted to find out so I asked her and she just gave me the brush off. You know, changed the subject really quickly.'  
  
  
  
'Hasn't she talked to Ron?' Harry asked.  
  
  
  
'Sort of,' said Hermione. 'She says more to Ron than she does to me but she still doesn't say much. All she said to him was that you two were getting on "okay". What the hell does okay mean Harry? What's going on here? Ron's convinced you two are a secret item now, you wouldn't believe how happy he is about it. His baby sister and his best friend.'  
  
  
  
Harry gulped. Ginny was lying to Ron to keep him sweet. Should he tell Hermione the truth? He knew that whatever Hermione said she would never keep a secret like this from Ron. He didn't want them to believe false pretences, but then again he wasn't in the mood for getting in a fight with his friends. He was just going to have to take the Ginny tactic.  
  
  
  
'It's nothing,' he said. 'She's telling the truth. We're friends. We're getting on okay.'  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
The sky was purple. Harry didn't like purple sky – it unnerved him. He was walking through a street where he had been before, but he couldn't for the life of him remember what it was called or which part of the country it had been in – or even why he had been there in the first place.  
  
  
  
A house with a balcony stood halfway down the street and a little boy with brown hair sat on the balcony whistling and eerie tune.  
  
  
  
But he didn't want to go into that house, he knew that's not where he was going. The place he wanted to go to was further up the street.  
  
  
  
He knew that house too, somewhere in the back of his subconscious. Her tried his hardest to bring out the memory but it wouldn't come. Why was he here? Why did he know he needed to walk inside?  
  
  
  
But he did walk inside and he met the same man as he did every night, as he had for every night in the past few months. But again something changed. This time the sky had been purple. The sky had never been purple before. Why was the sky purple? It unnerved him. Had he thought of that before?  
  
  
  
The man in the house was bald. There wasn't a single hair on his head, and there were crow's feet at the side of each eye.  
  
  
  
'I've got a tip for you boy,' he said, as he said every time, in his croaky, wheezy voice. His long wrinkled finger stretched out and beckoned Harry closer, even though the figures were only inches apart anyhow.  
  
  
  
The mans eyes were striking, although what colour they were – Harry couldn't say.  
  
  
  
The man opened his decrepit mouth to reveal one yellow tooth. 'The afternoon knows what the morning never suspected; the snake deserves no pity,' he wheezed.  
  
  
  
'What is that supposed to mean?' Harry cried, but the man only laughed, showing his emaciating gums, and crumbled into a pile of dust.  
  
  
  
Harry woke up. He looked to the end of the bed, only – to his great surprise – to see Ginny. She sat there, looking effervescent and beautiful in a loose white nightdress.  
  
  
  
'You look like an angel,' Harry said, marvelling at her striking appearance. Some people just didn't need to bother with makeup.  
  
  
  
'Thank you,' she said, and took his hand, which was lying on top of his bed covers.  
  
  
  
He leaned in to meet her face. He had never wanted to be near to someone as much as he wanted to be near to Ginny now. He looked right into her eyes and prepared for her sweet embrace.  
  
  
  
But as their heads drew closer, here eyes changed sharply to a disgusting, horrible colour and feathers sprouted on her face. There was a beak instead of her mouth which pecked Harry sharply before taunting him with a sharp squawk. A smell erupted like rotting flesh and Harry retched.  
  
  
  
He fell sideways out of the bed and jolted in a fit-like way as he hit the floor. This time he had woken up for real, and he was very very shocked. But he didn't know what at. The night before – and the dream sequence that had come with it – was all completely forgotten to him.  
  
  
  
The sky outside his window was still navy blue, but the moon cast an eerie pale glow over the whole of Hogwarts. The sky was clear and many stars shone.  
  
  
  
Damn dreams, he thought. Damn … stupid … dreams. he banged himself on the side of the head, he was so frustrated. At least it was all right when he could remember them, but [I]this[/I] was just so frustrating he … he wanted to hit something!  
  
  
  
But he couldn't. That was stupid. That was another thing he had learned in his sixth year. When you get frustrated don't hit anything – especially if they're supposed to be your friends.  
  
  
  
What else could he do to get rid of this anger? What he had used to do?  
  
  
  
And it was then he remembered something he used to do. Fly. He used to get on his broom and just cruise around in the sky.  
  
  
  
But would he be allowed to do it at whatever time it was now? He glanced at his watch. It was four am.  
  
  
  
Oh to hell with it! he thought. He would go flying at four am, and face the consequences!  
  
  
  
He reached for his wand and pointed it at the lamp on the wall, which immediately dispelled the eerie grey light and replaced it with a warm yellow glow.  
  
  
  
Over in his wardrobe were some ordinary black daywear robes. He avoided wearing them for teaching because looking like a junior Severus Snape wasn't on his wish list. Snape had always worm black. 'And probably always will…' murmured Harry.  
  
  
  
But he wasn't teaching now, and maybe the black would help him mix in with the backgrounds. So silently he got dressed, put on a pair of shoes (although he knew his feet would hardly touch the ground – literally) and grabbed his Thunderclap.  
  
  
  
He ran through the corridors to the outside door and out onto the pitch. Yes, he would start out here. He hovered his broom at the right height and mounted it. He pulled it upwards and it climbed in altitude.  
  
  
  
Where shall I go? he thought. And as his eyes scanned the horizon he saw a place that had always brought memories with it. The forbidden forest.  
  
  
  
Yes, he thought. Why not?  
  
  
  
The breeze was cool as he swung the Thunderbolt not facing the wind. He rose above the trees that were swaying slightly and glided forwards.  
  
  
  
See, he thought to himself, you feel better already, don't you?  
  
  
  
He did a couple of circles on his broom and caught the breeze sometimes, just to sweep him along. The moon was shining and just for fun Harry rode in front of it, so anyone looking at the moon from just the right angle in Hogwarts would see a figure riding in front of it on a broomstick.  
  
  
  
A few owls were out as well, some with food dangling from their beaks, some perched on the tops of trees in the first, some just swooping around making that ghostly too-whit sound they made.  
  
  
  
It amazed Harry that however many times he lifted up a wand and felt the power surge up his arm, it could never compare to the feeling of amazement he felt when riding a broomstick.  
  
  
  
He was just thinking these thoughts when something jolted him out of his dream world. A shout – coming from the forest.  
  
  
  
'Hello?' Harry shouted. 'Hello is anyone there?'  
  
  
  
No one answered. He waited for a while, just hovering on the spot, until he finally decided it could have just been a werewolf transforming. After all, he had seen it first hand and had heard it was painful.  
  
  
  
Swish! He spun the broom around so fast the twigs made the air rush around him. He was acting like such a child, but who cared …  
  
  
  
There was another shout. This time louder, and more desperate sounding. Even from his position above the trees Harry could hear that it was no werewolf – and no ordinary cry either.  
  
  
  
'Who are you?' Harry shouted, leaning downwards so the person had more of a chance to hear him. He lowered the broom slowly, but not too close to the trees. 'Are you a person or a beast?'  
  
  
  
'[I]P-p-person! H-help me![/I]' whoever it was seemed to be having trouble getting their words out. They were wheezing and out of breath.  
  
  
  
'What's wrong?' Harry shouted hurriedly, flying a bit lower. 'Has something got you? Is something chasing you? Are you a student?' he added quickly on the end, remembering his own days at Hogwarts.  
  
  
  
'[I]JUST HELP![/I]' they shouted. 'Please! Hurry! I'm a student … hurry …'  
  
  
  
Harry couldn't work out whether it was a girl or a boy. At first he thought it was a girl, but it could just as well be a boy before his voice broke. And when they had shouted they hadn't screamed … oh well. It didn't matter now. There was nothing he could to but go in there.  
  
  
  
Almost immediately Harry pulled the broom vertical and holding on tight, he dived straight down through the trees, holding his arm in front of his as a shield and wrinkling his nose so that his glasses wouldn't fall off.  
  
  
  
But when he reached the clearing below, there was nothing there. There was no student, and no beast. No nothing, apart from something right in the middle of the clearing. Something that shone silvery in the moonlight. Harry walked over to them and picked them up. A small clump of dark hair was the object he held in his hand. 


	23. Second interlude

A/N: HARRY POV  
  
*  
  
Aaron woke up with a sore head. I was obviously sleeping at a crooked angle, he thought. He wouldn't have been surprised, last night his sleep had been completely punctuated by dreams. Most of them about this forest expedition he and Faith had coming up in a couple of days.  
  
  
  
He manually straightened out his head and sat up in bed.  
  
  
  
'Copper!' he said. 'Wake up!'  
  
  
  
He got out of bed and pulled his clothes and socks on. There was no reply so as he was tying his shoelaces, he repeated, 'Copper wake up!' not caring to keep his voice low.  
  
  
  
'Shut it Bulstrode,' Godfrey complained from behind his bed curtain and Aaron heard a lot of shuffling around, probably Godfrey pulling the covers back over his head.  
  
  
  
'Yeah Aaron,' said Ben sleepily. 'The one day in the whole year you actually wake up on time and it's a Saturday.'  
  
  
  
'It's Friday,' Aaron said.  
  
  
  
'What?!' chorused four voices all in unison.   
  
  
  
'It is…' he glanced at the calendar on the wall opposite, 'Friday 13th January, so I hope no one's superstitious.'  
  
  
  
Suddenly there was a great sound of people moving around and Aaron finished tying his shoelace.  
  
  
  
'Right,' he said, 'I'm off, to leave all of you lot to drag yourselves out of bed. I'll see you in potions, Copper,' and he left the dorm.  
  
  
  
Downstairs in the common room he saw Faith and Winter.  
  
  
  
'Hi,' he said.  
  
  
  
'Hi.' Faith made a face. 'Aaron, I've got this message from Snape, about the detentions.'  
  
  
  
Aaron sighed. 'Go ahead…'   
  
  
  
'Apparently we're doing some kind of clean up operation just on the outskirts of the forest. I don't know what we're clearing up and why, but he didn't say we had to wear any kind of protection. Do you think we should go and ask him.'  
  
  
  
'Yeah,' Aaron said. 'Yeah, let's go.'  
  
  
  
'I'll wait for Copper,' Faith said keenly, as Aaron and Winter left the room. 'See you at breakfast,' she smiled. 


	24. The girls' toilets

A/N: HARRY POV  
  
*  
  
'A plum soda, if you will Fink.'  
  
  
  
'It'll be with you in a moment, Harry.'  
  
  
  
Fink took a small glass from the top of the bar and held it against the soda machine.  
  
  
  
'So, you here with anyone?' Fink asked. 'Ah, no need to ask, I can't see Ron coming through the door right now.'  
  
  
  
Harry jumped in shock, and twisted his head to look behind him so fast that it cricked. 'Ouch! Fink, tell Ron I had to go to the bathroom …' quickly, he dashed off into the nearest bathroom. When he was in there he shut himself in one of the toilets and ran his hand through his hair, breathing deeply.  
  
  
  
Relax, he told himself, it's Ron, Ron couldn't possible have anything against you. Could he? What if he lied … would Ron be able to tell that he was lying? He hadn't been able to tell that Ginny was lying, but what if Ginny was just a really good liar?  
  
  
  
But what if Ron asked him directly about him and Ginny? What would he say then? They'd be best friends for years and surely he'd expect the truth, and what if he found out after all that Harry [I]wasn't[/I] telling the truth?  
  
  
  
And what if Ginny had told the truth after all? She had told Ron how she had never got over Harry breaking her heart, and how Harry hadn't been the understanding knight in shining armour he was supposed to be?  
  
  
  
What if Hermione had lied to Ron? Okay now he was being paranoid and stupid … but all the same. There was too many "what if's?" and a great big web of lies he was stuck in.  
  
  
  
Right, he thought, there's only one thing to do. the only thing I can do now is go out there and face Ron, and whatever he has to say to me.  
  
  
  
'Oh,' he moaned softly, smacking his forehead with his hand while leaning against the back of the door with the other. This was even harder than going out to meet Voldemort for the last time – almost. At least he had wanted to go then.  
  
  
  
He was just about to leave when he heard some voices coming from outside the cubicle.  
  
  
  
'Oi, Sandy, pass me my lip liner will you.'  
  
  
  
'There ya go. Can you see Leroy out there? He said he'd be waiting for me!'  
  
  
  
Harry didn't know either of the girl's voices, but they only told him one thing. He was hiding in a [I]girl's toilet![/I]  
  
  
  
Hell, he thought to himself. Oh no, what am I going to do now? The two girls continued to talk outside about this Leroy and what one of them had planned for him. Poor Leroy, thought Harry, I hope he isn't a pushover.  
  
  
  
I'll just leave after they're gone, he reassured himself. After a while they'll stop poking their eyes with makeup brushes and go out to inflict their torcher upon the Leroy bloke.  
  
  
  
'Do you think this lip liner is okay?'  
  
  
  
'Does it really matter?'  
  
  
  
'You minx! What are you accusing me of?'  
  
  
  
This is quite amusing really, thought Harry. But he couldn't stay here, he needed to go out there and talk to Ron! He was all psyched up now – and he didn't want to lose his Dutch courage.  
  
  
  
Oh well, he sighed, at least there was always Fink's plum soda's. they more [I]more[/I] than enough to perk you up!  
  
  
  
'Ready to face the world?' one of the girls asked the other.  
  
  
  
'Am I ever!' came the reply, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Good, he could get out of this place now.  
  
  
  
He heard the door swing open and then shut again. He opened the door of the cubicle quickly, but just as he did so he saw the door move ajar again. [I]Oh what![/I] he thought.  
  
  
  
Again he found himself shut in the cubicle, with his back leaning against the door.  
  
  
  
'So what's the plan?' the woman's voice said. Hang on a minute, thought Harry, as he jumped slightly from the shock of recognition. I know that voice!  
  
  
  
'It's hardly a plan,' the other woman replied. Harry had been expecting that voice, so he wasn't so shocked. 'It's a jumble of ideas, I'd say.'  
  
  
  
'Fine. Then what's the jumble of ideas?'  
  
  
  
'You [I]know[/I] – we've been over this a hundred times … or more …' the voice said exasperatedly. 'We just sit at the table near to them, cleverly mingling in with the crowd and the wallpaper.'  
  
  
  
'And you promise you haven't told either of them the plan?'  
  
  
  
'They are both completely in the dark.' Harry could just see her smiling now.  
  
  
  
'Imagine,' the first woman said, 'imagine what your students would say if they knew about you doing this for me? You'd be the talk of the school!'  
  
  
  
Yes, thought Harry, Ginny was right. Hermione would certainly be the talk of the school.  
  
  
  
But only if he let her be, and he didn't want to do that. Right, he thought, as he started unbolting the door. He didn't know what was going on and it sounded from the nature of the conversation that Ron didn't either.  
  
  
  
The door swung open and Harry walked out. The looks on the girls' faces were that of shock and guilt at the same time. Soon, however, the fact that Harry was in a girls' bathroom hit them and they started laughing hilariously.  
  
  
  
Harry would have said something but as both the girls seemed to be bent double over the sinks trying to control their fits of giggles, he didn't think that they would be able to come out with anything coherent.  
  
  
  
'Harry,' Hermione finally wheezed. 'What … the hell are you doing in here?'  
  
  
  
'A simple mistake,' Harry said, now ashamedly trying to suppress a laugh himself. 'What I want to know is what you two were talking about.'  
  
  
  
'Oh.' Hermione said, as if she was hoping he would have not heard, or forgotten. Or perhaps she had forgotten in her fit of giggles. 'That was nothing Harry … nothing to worry about really.'  
  
  
  
'I'm not worrying,' Harry said. 'I just want to know what you are both doing! Not that I expect Ginny to tell me … but Hermione, we're best friends and Ron is your [I]boyfriend[/I].'  
  
  
  
'Just because someone else has a secret!' Ginny suddenly shouted. 'I knew you wouldn't be able to stand it. Everyone's always told you everything but now suddenly you're not [I]big[/I] any more and you still want to know everything.'  
  
  
  
'You've hardly got a right!' Harry shouted back. 'There's you, giving me the big you-broke-my-heart-and-I-haven't-forgiven-you story and then I find out you're going to eavesdrop on a conversation with my best friend?'  
  
  
  
'Don't flatter yourself!'  
  
  
  
Hermione held out her hands. 'Hang on,' she said slowly. 'What are you saying? Both of you told me you were getting on okay. Is that … not right, or something?'  
  
  
  
The three of them stood there for a moment, not saying a word to each other. Harry didn't plan on saying anything, for he was as keen to hear Ginny's explanation as Hermione was.  
  
  
  
'Go Harry.'  
  
  
  
'What?'  
  
  
  
'I'm hardly going to say anything with you here. Go out there and talk to Ron, like you said you would.'  
  
  
  
Harry was angry. How could she not tell him? 'Fine,' he said defiantly. 'But anything that may slip out of my mouth when I talk to him is not my fault.'  
  
  
  
Eugh, he thought, as he stormed out. I should've stayed in my toilet.  
  
  
  
Luckily he managed to make his way swiftly over to the bar, and no one seemed to have noticed that fact he had just emerged from a girl's bathroom. He saw Ron sitting at the bar chatting animatedly with Fink. Harry walked over to join them.  
  
  
  
'Harry! You took your time!' exclaimed Fink, and handed him his plum soda. 'Eight sickles, please.'  
  
  
  
Harry handed over the money, and Ron indicated for them to move to a table to sit down. The sat at a little table in the corner.  
  
  
  
'How are you?' Harry asked cautiously. Ron pushed his finger around this rim of his glass. He looked tired but happy. Harry always remembered Mr Weasley looking that way when they met.  
  
  
  
'Ah,' he replied. 'Stuff's okay. Bohemia's just fired a load of people, so I have about ten tonnes more work than usual. And thing's with Herm are great.'  
  
  
  
'Daisy still scared of your hair?'  
  
  
  
'Unfortunately,' he laughed, and took a sip from his glass.  
  
  
  
[I]Don't worry,[/I] Harry told himself, [I]everything's going okay so far … nothing's gone wrong yet.[/I]  
  
  
  
'No wonder I don't see you so much any more!'  
  
  
  
'What?'  
  
  
  
'You know, with all the work on and stuff.'  
  
  
  
'Oh, yes, right.' Ron waved his hand. 'But you don't surely want to talk about that do you? That's so boring. You must have been doing something much more exciting than me!'  
  
  
  
'Well the other week I was trying to teach the first year Hufflepuffs a successful turn of one hundred and eighty, and this boy, Ned-'  
  
  
  
'No I don't mean [I]that,[/I] Harry!' Ron said. 'Gawd, I always knew you were dopey, but-'  
  
  
  
'Oi!'  
  
  
  
'How are things going between you and Ginny?'  
  
  
  
Harry had to give it to him – if there was anyone who knew how to get to the point, it was Ron.  
  
  
  
'I'm not hiding anything, if that's what you mean.'  
  
  
  
Ron's eyebrows jumped right up into his flaming hair. 'Ha!' he exclaimed, pointing his finger at Harry. 'You're hiding something!'  
  
  
  
'What?' asked Harry, astounded. 'I'm not hiding anything! How did you come to that conclusion?'  
  
  
  
'It was easy,' said Ron. 'I mean, I'd be surprised someone as clever as you hadn't worked it out … but then again maybe you did it by accident. Hmm. yes, it must be a subconscious thing …'  
  
  
  
'What? What did I do?' Harry asked exasperatedly. He knew Ron was playing him out, and it was kind of funny.  
  
  
  
Ron put his glass down on the table. 'You went straight to the conclusion that you thought I thought you were hiding something. I might not have thought you were hiding anything at all – but you obviously do. So come on, out with it!'  
  
  
  
Harry goggled. This was all too fast for him. He didn't have anything to hide! And if he did, he didn't know he was hiding it. He had only said that because he knew Ron knew he was hiding something … oh god. He was digging a hole.  
  
  
  
'I'm not hiding anything!'  
  
  
  
[I]Dig … dig … dig …[/I]  
  
  
  
'So … you're getting on okay with Ginny?'  
  
  
  
'Yes … but not like that … I mean … yes. Really.'  
  
  
  
[I]Dig … dig … dig …[/I]  
  
  
  
'You are digging a deeper hole for yourself!' Ron said, laughing. Harry was surprised to find himself laughing too, now.  
  
  
  
'I know, I can hear it mentally. Digging away.'  
  
  
  
'You [I]are[/I] mental, Harry Potter!' they laughed for a while, but then it subsided. 'Though seriously,' Ron said sincerely. 'Just tell me what's going on and I'll believe you!'  
  
  
  
'You promise you'll believe me?' Harry asked apprehensively, although he already knew what the answer would be.  
  
  
  
'Do you need to ask?' said Ron incredulously.  
  
  
  
'I guess not …' said Harry. 'But I promise you there is nothing going on between us. Not is the way you are thinking.'  
  
  
  
Ron nodded. 'That's okay. I believe you.'  
  
  
  
'Hang on,' Harry said, 'I haven't finished.' He had decided. Ginny might be able to lie to Ron but he couldn't. Ron was his best friend and he should know what was going on.  
  
  
  
'When Ginny came back, Christmas day, I was babysitting Daisy in Hermione's office. After you went I'd been there for a while just playing some games and thinking about stuff when suddenly I hear this voice behind me saying, "I never knew you were good with kids."'  
  
  
  
Harry then repeated the conversation that Ginny and he had had that night. It was funny, that he remembered every cruel word of it.  
  
  
  
When he finished, Ron didn't say much. He seemed to be thinking.  
  
  
  
'Do you believe me?'  
  
  
  
Ron nodded again, in the same concentrated way as he had before.  
  
  
  
'Are you mad at me?'  
  
  
  
Ron shook his head slowly, and Harry couldn't help comparing him, right at that moment, to one of those nodding dogs you could buy from the muggle markets.  
  
  
  
'I know she can be stubborn,' said Ron. Harry wasn't sure whether Ron was aware he was still moving his head. 'But I don't blame you. And I don't think this is all down to you, either. I think something happened in Australia she's not telling any of us about. But don't worry,' he said, with a happier expression on his face, 'she'll tell us when she's ready!'  
  
  
  
Harry heaved an inward sigh of relief. [I]See[/I], he told himself, [I]it wasn't nearly so painful there, was it?[/I]  
  
  
  
'Look,' he said to Ron, after taking Ron's glass, 'you want another one of these?'  
  
  
  
Ron nodded, still in the nodding dog way. He seemed to have cottoned on to how absurd he looked and as he nodded, both men burst out laughing. Harry made his way over to the bar to order more drinks for himself and his best friend Ron Weasley, still snigg[I][/I]ering his head off. 


	25. The accident

A/N: AARON POV  
  
*  
  
[I]Due to the unfortunate circu[I][/I]mstances with the Erkling, your detention was postponed. Although safety is not yet assured near the forest, you will be placed in the care of our Groundskeeper, Rubeus Hagrid, and should be safe. You will meet Mr Hagrid in the entrance hall at 7pm on the 14th January, at which time all threat of Erkling should have gone.  
  
  
  
Yours sincerely,  
  
  
  
Professor S. Snape.[/I]  
  
  
  
Aaron read the slip of paper once more just to be sure, before slipping his cloak around his shoulders.  
  
  
  
'You ready, Faith?' he asked. She nodded and they waved goodbye to Copper and Winter, as they left the common room.  
  
  
  
It was the fourteenth of January, and time for Faith and Aaron's detention. They had almost thought it pointless to attend a detention that had been given for something they did so long ago but it would seem that Dumbledore and Snape did not share this point of view, so reluctantly they trudged their way up flights of stairs to attend the detention, wearing warm cloaks and solemn expressions.  
  
  
  
'Still,' Aaron said, breaking the silence, 'I suppose we could always befriend a forest creature. You never know, it could come in handy.'  
  
  
  
Faith turned around sharply to him. 'Of all the places,' she said belligerently, 'that they had to put us, it [I]had[/I] to be the forest, didn't it?'  
  
  
  
'What have you got against the forest?'  
  
  
  
Faith laughed derisively. 'Getting found by a wild forest creature when I'm practically unarmed who looks upon me as a nice follow up to the tasty dozen creatures it has just consumed, and whose favourite way of eating students is to peel them first and then eat them slowly is [I]not[/I] my idea of handy.'  
  
  
  
Aaron laughed. 'Faith …' he said warningly, 'how many times have I told you to keep your nightmares to yourself?'  
  
  
  
Now even she couldn't help smiling. She punched him playfully on the arm.  
  
  
  
'Oi you, Aaron, you takin' the mick outta me? Eh? Eh?'  
  
  
  
'Moi? I'm surprised you could ever think that!' he smiled impishly.  
  
  
  
'But seriously,' she said, 'I hate the forest. I really don't want to go in there.'  
  
  
  
'Don't worry,' Aaron said, 'we'll be fine! And if the worst comes to the worst, you've always got me to defend you!' he flexed his arm in a muscle-man type way and Faith laughed again.  
  
  
  
'Okay,' she said, holding her hands out in front of her, 'backing away … slowly …'  
  
  
  
Suddenly a large – very large – figure entered the entrance hall, swinging a lamp in his huge hand. It was Hagrid, the giant man Aaron remembered from his first ever journey to Hogwarts.  
  
  
  
'Aaron? Faith?' he asked, as he unrolled a scroll of paper in his hand.  
  
  
  
'Yes,' they replied in unison.  
  
  
  
'Yeh've prob'ly heard about what yer doin' tonight, but ah'll go over it once fer both o' yeh. There's a couple o' other students in detention tonight who'll be doin' the same thing as you two.'  
  
  
  
'What are we doing, Mr Hagrid?'   
  
  
  
'Hagrid,' he said, 'just call me Hagrid.'  
  
  
  
'What are we doing, Hagrid?'  
  
  
  
Hagrid swung the front doors open and a blast of cold air whipped Aaron across his cheek. He put his hand to it in shock. Hagrid saw his reaction and chuckled.  
  
  
  
'S'cold,' he said, pointing out the obvious. 'A waif like you could do wi' a bigger cloak. Here, yeh can borrow mine, if yeh think yer can walk in it.'  
  
  
  
He chuckled again as he removed his coat and handed it over to Aaron. It was made from some kind or animal fur, Aaron could tell, but he was grateful for it because it kept him warm. As they stepped outside the wintry air bit his face and he could see Faith shivering.  
  
  
  
'Follow me,' said Hagrid, 'an' stay close. Jus' need teh go an' collect summat from me hut.'  
  
  
  
Aaron and Faith stayed close to Hagrid as they made their way over to a wooden hut that stood near the forest. Hagrid went into there to fetch something. While he was inside, the caretaker – Mr Rodgers – came over with two older-looking pupils.  
  
  
  
Hagrid emerged from the hut. 'Thank you Mr Rodgers,' he said. He was holding four pairs of spades, and he handed one to each student. 'Righ',' he said, 'if you'll just make sure yeh stay close ter me, let's go into the forest and star' the cleanup operation.'  
  
  
  
Aaron had never been into the forest before, but as he entered it he could notice nothing different with the physical appearance, but the atmosphere seemed different. Heavier.   
  
  
  
It was dark and the only visible light came from Hagrid's lamp, which cast a pool of eerie yellow light on the dark green surroundings.  
  
  
  
Aaron was sure he heard a rustle in the bushes and turned sharply, but he did not see anything. To keep himself calm he reminded himself of the sheer size of Hagrid, and the spade he was holding in his hand.  
  
  
  
Hagrid led them deeper into the forest, although Aaron hadn't lost sight of the edge yet. Soon enough they stopped, and Hagrid laid down the things he held in his arms.  
  
  
  
'Righ',' he said, 'as yeh can see, this clearin' here is in a bit of a mess. Nothin' too dodgy goin' on, just an overexcited group o' pixies.'  
  
  
  
The clearing was indeed in a mess. The ground was completely turfed up and the trees all around the clearing had been defaced in some way or the other.   
  
  
  
Lots of little pixie items were strewed all over the grass. They were small – Aaron knew for a fact that pixies were only a few inches high – and it was hard to tell what they were.  
  
  
  
Hagrid handed them each a bag to put rubbish in and told them to get to work. Hagrid was also working on clearing up the rubbish and soon after working for a while Aaron got hot, and had to take off Hagrid's overcoat and his own cloak.   
  
  
  
He bent down to re-dig a patch of upturned turf and leaves and twigs, but the moment he bent over the cord he was wearing around his neck fell out of his top so everyone could see.  
  
  
  
Ever since he had found his parents' rings, he had kept his mothers' and worn it around his neck on a cord. He would have loved to have kept his fathers' there as well but two rings was too much, and he didn't want people – especially that Gryffindor Smokey, and Godfrey too – to see him wearing jewellery around his neck.  
  
  
  
He quickly stuffed it back into his top. Even though neither Smokey nor Godfrey were here he didn't want anyone finding out about it. Winter and Faith knew about it and they told him not to be so ashamed of it, but he couldn't help it.  
  
  
  
Suddenly a creature came out of the hedge towards him. Aaron froze and he was filled with fear and adrenaline all at once. It was black and furry and it had a long nose. With curious eyes it glanced up at Aaron and blinked.  
  
  
  
'H-h-Hagrid,' he stammered, trying not to panic. 'W-what is this thing?!'  
  
  
  
Aaron heard everyone turn around to look at what he was doing. He didn't see them, because he couldn't take his eyes of this creature that looked up at him.  
  
  
  
'Is it dangerous?' he asked, tying not to fall over his words.  
  
  
  
'Tha'?' exclaimed Hagrid loudly. 'No! It's not dangerous at all! Wouldn't hurt a fly that 'un.'  
  
  
  
Aaron relaxed, and bent down to have a further look at the creature – now that he knew it wasn't dangerous. He saw that its front paws were curiously shaped and, now that he had got over his fright, it was quite cute really.  
  
  
  
'What type of creature is it?' asked Aaron curiously.  
  
  
  
'Tha's a niffler,' said Hagrid informatively. 'Looks cute, don't 'e? Great for picking up shiny things, they are. See a glint o' gold and wham! They're in there.'  
  
  
  
'Are there many in the forest?'  
  
  
  
Hagrid thought for a moment. 'They wander around, here and there. But yeh better get back t'work, else we'll be here all night!'  
  
  
  
Resignedly, Aaron went back to digging the patch of ground he had been just about to start working on. The niffler didn't move – it just sat there and looked at him.  
  
  
  
Aaron sighed, and picked up the spade to start digging over the ruined patch of ground again. He could see Faith grinning at him – or rather the sight of the niffler sitting by him – from the other side of the clearing.  
  
  
  
He bent over and then something happened. It happened so quickly that by the time it was actually over it had barely registered in Aaron's mind that it had every been.   
  
  
  
He had reached over to start re-digging the patch and once again the ring had fallen out of the top of his collar. It must have glinted in the light of the lamp because – quick as a flash! – that cute little creature that had been sitting by Aaron's feet reached its snout upwards and with a sharp tug, yanked the ring from around his neck and ran off into the forest with it. Aaron saw the cord lying on the leaves in front of him and suddenly realised what that little runt of a niffler had done.  
  
  
  
'Oi!' he shouted as he looked deeper into the forest where the niffler had gone. 'Come back you stupid thing! Bring that ring back!'  
  
  
  
He started to run after it but was caught by the back of his top by Hagrid. He continued to try to run but all that happened was that his legs got waved about in the air a lot. He shouted a lot of things after the niffler that he wouldn't have said in front of a Professor, but Hagrid didn't let go and Aaron knew it was hopeless.  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
Ever since the night that that rotten little niffler had [I]stolen[/I] his mother's wedding ring, Aaron had known what he was going to do.  
  
  
  
After he had seen the niffler run away into the forest and Hagrid had had to hold him back, he had learned a few other things about nifflers.  
  
  
  
They don't care about where the glint of gold jewellery is on your body or not. The niffler will just go for it. Hagrid, [I]"supposed he should o' told 'im,"[/I] but he hadn't because he hadn't thought there would be any gold or silver jewellery on him.  
  
  
  
He said there was no point going after it because the forest was so vast and always so dark that there would be no point trying to follow it. Even Hagrid – who regularly ventured into the forest – couldn't definitely say where the nifflers were.  
  
  
  
But even though Aaron might be the cleverest student in first year, he was very headstrong and if he wanted to do something, he would. And he knew what he wanted to do. The next morning he had approached Copper, Winter and Faith in the common room.  
  
  
  
'Are you okay, Aaron?' Faith asked tentatively. The night before when the ring had been taken, Aaron hadn't said a word when going back to the dorms.  
  
  
  
'Yes,' he had said, with a mischievous expression. 'I'm fine. But I need to ask you all a favour. Come into the forest with me. Please. I must get that ring back.'  
  
  
  
The reaction from each of them had been immediate, and each followed each other in giving a reply.  
  
  
  
'Aaron! Don't you know what's [I]in[/I] that forest?'  
  
  
  
'Yeah I'll come … after all, I always wondered what it would be like to DIE. Are you serious? You can't go in there – especially not at night!'  
  
  
  
Faith looked a little bit more serious about her answer. 'are you sure you're willing to risk that much for the ring?'  
  
  
  
'Faith!' exclaimed Winter. 'Are you saying you'll go with him? and there was me actually thinking you were [I]sane[/I] …'  
  
  
  
'Yes, I will go with him,' Faith said defiantly. 'We're his friends – and remember – we've got parents just sitting at home. Well, mine are divorced so perhaps I should say homes, but that's beside the point. He doesn't have any reminders of them due to that cow of a sister he has, and a niffler just stole one of the most precious items, not only to Aaron, but also to his mother and her memory! If we made sure we knew a few handy curses I'm sure we'd be okay. I'm going, but is anyone else coming with us?'  
  
  
  
Slowly, Winter and Copper nodded in agreement.  
  
  
  
So here he was, just dragging himself out of his chair in the common room, just about to go and fetch Copper from the dorm. Faith had been waiting with him all evening, they had been chatting and playing wizard games. Winter and Copper had gone to do their own thing, but now it was time – one am in the morning – for them to go.  
  
  
  
As he walked into the dorm he saw that Copper was sitting on his bed, going through a book he had got from the library. [I]"Curses to Fend of Magical Beasts."[/I]  
  
  
  
'Any help?' Aaron asked. Copper jumped.  
  
  
  
'Didn't see you there mate!' he glanced at the book. 'Nah, not really. Just tell me things like how to de-attach a flobberworm from my leg if it clings on there. And there was me thinking you just had to kick 'em … I feel so stupid.'  
  
  
  
They hovered there for a second, until Aaron remembered what he had come for. 'Oh yes,' he said. 'We're going to go now … if you're still coming.'  
  
  
  
'Of course I'm still coming!' said Copper. 'Although I think you're mad for doing this, we could have just have told a teacher …'  
  
  
  
'A teacher wouldn't do anything,' Aaron said, downcast. 'Most of them are scared of that forest as we are – and you know what Hagrid said. I don't seriously think any of the others would have said different.'  
  
  
  
'I suppose,' said Copper thoughtfully, as he picked up his wand and put it in his pocket. Aaron felt his pocket nervously just to check that his wand was still there. It was. The two boys left the dorm to see Winter and Faith waiting for them.  
  
  
  
The group made their way out of the common room nervously, looking about them each way as they went. Aaron knew the pictures could see them but hopefully none of the pictures would feel it imperative to tell on four wandering students.  
  
  
  
They made it through the corridors without any incident, although on the way Winter seemed to hear many imaginary sounds that they had to stop for – just in case they were real. None of them turned out to be anything serious at all, which is what caused Aaron to tell Winter that she was, "far too suspicious!"  
  
  
  
The entrance doors were the thing they were worried about going through, but luckily Aaron had already thought of something. As they approached them, the doors – who only admitted people they thought suitable – did budge an inch.  
  
  
  
'Listen,' Aaron said to the doors. 'Let me do a deal with you, okay?' as doors couldn't answer he assumed that anything they had replied was a yes. 'If you don't let me through,' he said, 'I've got some droobles in my pocket,' he took out the packet of gum and rattled it, 'that would look very attractive in your keyholes. Now, are you going to let me through?'  
  
  
  
One of the doors creaked open slowly, and Aaron pulled it back as silently as he could.  
  
  
  
'Good doors,' he said, 'I knew wood was always decent.'  
  
  
  
They all sneaked out into the night, which, compared to the other, was calm. The wintry air still made Aaron shudder slightly, but it did not cut as it had before.  
  
  
  
The grounds stretched out in front of him as one grassy plain. It looked very poetic, as it had the night when he first arrived at Hogwarts.  
  
  
  
'Oh!' Winter suddenly exclaimed, suddenly clutching her hand to her cheek.  
  
  
  
'What?' asked Copper worriedly, 'are you okay?'  
  
  
  
'I'm fine,' she said to them. 'I just … I think it might be raining … something cold hit my cheek.'  
  
  
  
Aaron was just going to start on a tirade about weather in the UK, until he saw what was going on. One little white flake fluttered slowly down from the sky, and it landed on Faith's nose. Playfully he leaned forward and brushed it off.   
  
  
  
'It's snowing,' he said joyfully, 'it's only bloody snowing!'  
  
  
  
The huge smile that spread across his face was so wide that it made the others laugh just at the hilarity of it. And as soon as the words came out the snow seemed to grow thicker, and faster. Soon a thin layer covered the grounds in front of them.  
  
  
  
'Mate, it's only snow!'  
  
  
  
'No, you don't understand,' he said, 'I've never been allowed to play in the snow. I've never made a snowman, or thrown a snowball. And soon there's going to be a huge field of snow right in front of me – and a whole night to waste!'  
  
  
  
Faith smiled mischievously. 'Are you lot thinking the same thing as I'm thinking?'  
  
  
  
But it would seem that Copper had already picked up on the idea, as a full handful of snow hit Aaron in the side of the head.  
  
  
  
'Snowball fight!'  
  
  
  
Aaron was enjoying himself so much. For the first time in his life he was allowed to play with this forbidden cold substance he had never been allowed to go near before. After the group were all drenched and shivering (Aaron had been everyone's favourite target), they set to work on a snowman.  
  
  
  
'You roll out the body,' Faith called to Aaron and Copper, 'and me and Winter'll take care of the head.' After much constructing, they came up with something that had a slight resemblance to a person.'  
  
  
  
'You know,' said Aaron thoughtfully, 'as we can't leave this here, we're going to have to destroy it. So let me be the first to name our snowman [I]Smokey Blackdawn[/I] and give it a great big kick from Slytherin!'  
  
  
  
'Yeah!' the others cried, and took much joy in destroying the snow-Smokey until there had been no evidence that he ever stood.  
  
  
  
Aaron knew he shouldn't – after all the boy's parents had been killed by death eaters – but who was going to find out? And Blackdawn had it coming, after all.  
  
  
  
'I've got a good feeling about tonight,' Aaron said to the others. 'There's no need to worry, we'll be in and out of that forest quicker than you can say quidditch!'  
  
  
  
'Aye aye, captain,' said Faith, with a movement of her hand that looked very much like a salute.  
  
  
  
'Thanks you lot,' Aaron suddenly said seriously. 'You're all great friends. You don't know how much I appreciate this.'  
  
  
  
The others were either far too overcome with either tears, laughter, or they just couldn't think of a reply to this, so silently the group made its way over to the edge of the forest. Stepping through the invisible barrier that Aaron always felt was there wasn't nearly as hard as it had been on the detention.  
  
  
  
In the forest it was incredibly dark, and it was hard for them to see anything.  
  
  
  
'Lumos,' Aaron muttered, and a light appeared at the end of his wand.  
  
  
  
As they moved deeper into the forest, there were only trees above them and around them. In front of them were just more and more bushes and clearings. This forest was green, Aaron noticed, and there didn't seem to be any flowers around.  
  
  
  
It was very quiet. Aaron expected the forest to be crawling with creatures, but so far he hadn't seen anything except for a few insects and spiders – and they were hardly anything to worry about!  
  
  
  
'Seen anything?' he whispered to the others. They hadn't cared about making noise out there on the grounds even though they were closer to the school then – but something about the forest made Aaron feel like he needed to whisper.  
  
  
  
All of the replies came back the same – no, no one had seen anything. It was just when Aaron was beginning to wish that they hadn't spent [I]quite[/I] so much time messing around on the green, when he saw a sharp movement in the corner of his eye.  
  
  
  
'Wait!' he said quickly, but also quietly. He rushed over to the area where he had seen whatever it was moving; there was a bush there.  
  
  
  
He searched the bush, but after a couple of minutes searching he turned around to the others with a disappointed face and shrugged.  
  
  
  
'Nothing there?'  
  
  
  
'There certainly isn't any more.' He got up and faced the others. 'Let's go,' he said despondently.  
  
  
  
'Wait,' Faith said. 'Let me just check …'  
  
  
  
'There's nothing there!' Aaron protested. 'We're wasting our time!' but after lighting her wand, Faith had already bent down to look. 'There's nothing,' Aaron carried on, 'except leaves, sticks and-'  
  
  
  
'- And a gold coin!' said Faith, as she emerged. And just as she had said, there was a gold coin in her hands.  
  
  
  
'But that doesn't mean anything,' Copper said. 'Someone could have just come down here and dropped that.'  
  
  
  
But Aaron shook his head. 'Yes,' he said, 'it's possible that's what happened – but very unlikely. How many people are going to come into this forest with coins, and then have the misfortune of dropping one? I think … if we just searched around a bit …'  
  
  
  
'I suppose it makes sense …' said Winter thoughtfully. 'Maybe it would be worth doing a search then, I guess.'  
  
  
  
'Well, why are we wasting time talking?' exclaimed Aaron. 'Let's get searching!'  
  
  
  
So the four students started to comb through the bushes and the undergrowth in the forest, looking for the little thieving beasts, or perhaps another gold coin – or just a glint of gold! It was only after about another half an hour when suddenly – through the silence – there came a violent scuffling from the undergrowth.  
  
  
  
'Help me!' they heard a voice saying – it was Copper's voice. 'I've got one of the little devils down here!'  
  
  
  
Aaron leapt down into the bushes, knowing full well that the snow was going to soak right into his robes and make him even colder.  
  
  
  
He reached through the leaves and felt the struggling furry animal. It sure wriggled a lot – they were far faster (and sneakier) than they looked.  
  
  
  
'Here, look,' said Winter, as she held something out. 'Take this.'  
  
  
  
She was holding a rope out, one of those thin ones that people usually practised knotting on. Copper thanked her and took it. The niffler struggled for a bit more, but after a while Copper said, 'got it, it's all tied up.'  
  
  
  
He brought out the end of the lead and handed it to Aaron, who took it and was immediately pulled over by the pure brute force of the niffler.  
  
  
  
'Those things are [I]mean![/I]' he exclaimed, as he picked himself up.  
  
  
  
They all stood there for a moment, until Winter spoke up. 'Well, what are we going to do now?'  
  
  
  
'Take us to your leader …' Faith said in the creepiest voice she could manage. The others laughed. 'I think we should just follow it,' she said. 'They might have good eyesight but I wouldn't say they were intelligent.'  
  
  
  
So Aaron held the niffler at a safe distance, and followed it wherever it went. They were going deeper and deeper into the forest, which Aaron was anxious about – but they just kept on following.  
  
  
  
Soon enough, they came across something. Lots of nifflers, all running around on the ground and carrying things in their mouths and round their front legs … to a great big glittering pile of jewels.  
  
  
  
'Wow!' Aaron exclaimed, and immediately let go of the niffler, that ran into the forest. 'We'd better get searching!' he leapt forward onto the pile of jewels with the others, and started sifting through it.  
  
  
  
Rings. There were tons of them. Just [I]where[/I] the nifflers were getting them was beyond Aaron's knowledge. There were posh ones, fakes ones, ones with jewels in and ones without. Silver ones and gold ones, and ones that sparkled in the snow. It was only when he reached right to the bottom of the pile and pulled something out – a very gold, very plain something. And as he looked on the inside, he read what it said.  
  
  
  
[I]I pledge to you my life.[/I]  
  
  
  
'I've found it!' he shouted, and held it up to the others.  
  
  
  
'Good,' Faith said. 'Now let's get out of here. And put that out of sight – those nifflers are running around everywhere!'  
  
  
  
Aaron put it in his pocket and started walking to where he thought was the edge of the forest. The time passed by but still they did not reach the edge. In fact – was it him or was it getting darker?  
  
  
  
'Does … does anyone know where we are?'  
  
  
  
'Not a clue. Perhaps we should stop walking now.'  
  
  
  
'Oohhhh!' Winter said, a panicky tone in her voice now. 'Ohh! I knew we shouldn't have come …'  
  
  
  
'Don't be a wuss!' Faith said quickly, and matter-of-factly. 'look, there's a clearing up ahead – we can stop there.'  
  
  
  
She was right, up ahead there was a patch of grass. The trees above it were so thick that the snow appeared not to have touched it. in fact, Aaron noticed, none of the ground they were walking on had snow on because the trees above them were so thick. Aaron started to feel slightly claustrophobic. Someone bumped into him from behind, and he turned around to see Faith on his tail. He saw her retract her arms quickly, as if she had been protecting him with them. 'Sorry,' she murmured.  
  
  
  
When they reached the clearing, they all sat down on the ground in the middle.  
  
  
  
'What shall we do now?'  
  
  
  
'We could wait for a bit, see where the light comes from and follow that,' was Copper's suggestion.  
  
  
  
'That isn't going to work,' Aaron sighed. They were truly lost.  
  
  
  
'Then you think of something!' Winter snapped. Aaron saw that her face was an odd shade of white. 'You got us into this – you get us out of it!'  
  
  
  
'Don't have a go at Aaron!' Faith shouted, making for Winter.  
  
  
  
'Wait,' said Copper. 'Stop, Faith, that isn't going to help. Look at her,' he pointed to Winter, 'look how panicky she is. I think she's hysterical, and if she isn't she will be soon.'  
  
  
  
'I need some air,' said Winter, clutching her stomach, 'I don't feel so good …' she got up and walked to the edge of the clearing. Aaron watched her, to make sure she didn't go out of sight – he didn't want anyone in any danger. She was right, he [I]had[/I] got them into this.  
  
  
  
He and Faith and Copper started discussing what spells would be handy to use, when suddenly they heard a scream.  
  
  
  
'[I]Ahhhh! Ahhhhh! Help me![/I]'  
  
  
  
'Oh hell …' exclaimed Aaron. His voice was hollow, for he knew who it was. 'Oh help … that was Winter.' And sure enough, when he looked around to see her, he could not spot her.  
  
  
  
Faith and Copper jumped up, Faith clutching her face with her hands, and Copper muttering a string of words that would have landed him in three month's detention.  
  
'We've got to look!' Aaron shouted, and ran to the edge of the clearing. He wanted to run into the forest and search every inch, but at the same time he was apprehensive. What if there were more of … whatever had captured her? Two of them getting captured wasn't going to help.  
  
  
  
In the end, the sense telling him just to run for it overrode the one telling him to be sensible. They were probably going to be in enough trouble if they got caught – how much would a little more hurt?  
  
  
  
Trees. Trees everywhere. Why didn't somebody do something about the trees? How could something run so fast in all these [I]trees![/I]  
  
  
  
He could hear footsteps in the distance, but he wasn't sure what it was. It could just have been Copper or Faith. Everything was getting so confused.  
  
  
  
Aaron slipped in some snow, and banged his elbow on a tree trunk. Pain shivered up his forearm and he grimaced – but he didn't stop running.  
  
  
  
He wasn't sure where he was going but anywhere would be good. Anywhere or any place where he might find Winter. He wasn't even thinking about what had got her – it was too terrible to contemplate.  
  
  
  
Especially with the Erkling attack, and especially after Snape had claimed that they eat children. Oh no, just thinking about it increased the fear in him tenfold.   
  
  
  
'Copper! Aaron!' he heard a shout in the distance. His first thought was to Winter, but then the voice shouted again. 'Copper! Aaron! I've got her! She's here!'  
  
  
  
Faith's found her … he thought, and headed off in the direction of the voice. He found himself back in the clearing where they had stopped to think … where it had happened. Faith was bending over Winter, who was lying in the floor, her fluffy blonde hair all in rat's tails on the ground. Aaron blanched as he saw red seeping through the snow next to her frail body. She was not moving.  
  
  
  
Faith looked upwards towards them, and Aaron could see that there were tears in her eyes. 'She's alive,' she gasped, 'she's breathing … she's alive … but only just…'  
  
  
  
'Oh God,' Copper said, his voice barely audible. He pointed to the ground, his eyes glazed and not concentrating. 'Oh God, there's blood … look, there's blood…'  
  
  
  
Aaron suddenly remembered Copper's aversion to blood. 'He's not going to be any help,' he said to Faith, 'he hates blood. With a vengeance. Just let him stand there.'  
  
  
  
She nodded, and they began to concentrate on Winter. Aaron didn't know any first aid and he wasn't sure that Faith did either, so they both began to do what was instinctive for them.  
  
  
  
'Where's the bleeding coming from?'  
  
  
  
'Dunno…' they could not see it from above her so they turned her over, to reveal a wound in the side of her forehead, and a gash down her face. The cherry coloured blood fell down her cheek in a nauseating cascade.  
  
  
  
'Don't look down, Copper,' Aaron said, and of course as soon as he said it Copper looked down. His eyes rolled and he swayed on the spot.  
  
  
  
Winter's eyes were closed, but as Aaron put his hand above her mouth and nose he could feel air coming from them. Good. She was breathing – but certainly out cold.  
  
  
  
'We can't wrap anything around the cut because to do that we'd have to cover her nose and … ooooohhhhh … I [I]wish[/I] I'd learned first aid!' Faith echoed Aaron's thoughts.  
  
  
  
'We need to take her back to the castle,' Aaron said. Aaron and Faith both grabbed an end of Winter as gingerly as they could, and lifted her up carefully. Luckily she wasn't too heavy, and they were able to carry her without much difficulty. They started to move in the direction they had before, with Copper following them. The way he was walking was not unlike that of a zombie.  
  
  
  
'Look!' Copper suddenly exclaimed, coming out of his trance suddenly. He was pointing to something in the distance. 'Look, I think I can see light!'  
  
  
  
He was right. Just in the distance was a pinprick of white – as if it were a faraway star.  
  
  
  
'Quick, Faith,' Aaron said. 'Let's go that way.'  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
They ran into the hospital wing, Copper in the lead and Faith and Aaron carrying Winter behind. Little droplets of blood fell on the floor behind them.  
  
  
  
'Help!' Aaron cried, once they were in there. 'Help! Someone?'  
  
  
  
'Aaron we have to think of an excuse,' Faith said quickly and quietly.  
  
  
  
'Now is not the time, Faith!' he replied.  
  
  
  
The door opened on the other side of the hospital wing, and a very sleepy looking Dolcy came meandering out of it.  
  
  
  
'They're going to ask how she was hurt,' Faith said, 'we've got to think of something!'  
  
  
  
'I dunno …' Aaron stammered, 'maybe … she fell down the stairs?'  
  
  
  
'That'll do.'  
  
  
  
Dolcy was walking up to them, but she had apparently not seen Winter in full view yet.  
  
  
  
'Dolcy is sorry,' she was saying, 'Dolcy was very sleepy tonight … she does not know why, she is – ARRRRGGGGGHHHHHH!'  
  
  
  
Dolcy let out a high-pitched squeal and covered each side of her face with her spindly hands. Her eyes widened – as if they weren't huge enough already – although her stance did not falter.   
  
  
  
'Stay right there,' she said, in her squeaky little voice, 'stay there, and Dolcy will get Madam Lee. Dolcy is thinking she is not good enough to cope with this…'  
  
  
  
Dolcy ran off, and the three students just stood in silence. Aaron's arms were beginning to ache, but he knew he couldn't even think of putting Winter down. Suddenly the door on the opposite side of the room opened and Madam Lee rushed out. She was wearing some robes that seemed to be back-to-front, and her hair was messed up and all over the place.  
  
  
  
'Christ on a bike!' she exclaimed, the expletive just slipping out of her mouth. 'What have you kids been doing?'  
  
  
  
'Nothing!' said Faith quickly. 'We'll explain what happened while you patch her up … she needs to be sorted out first.'  
  
  
  
Madam Lee did not reply, but conjured Winter up so she was lying on an empty bed. After a quick flick of her wand and a few muttered words, the cuts on Winter's forehead and cheek had completely disappeared.  
  
  
  
Winter lay there on the bed, her face pale and withdrawn – even though she was out for the count. She looked somewhat lifeless, even though she was alive.  
  
  
  
'I'm going to wake her up,' Madam Lee said. 'I need to ask her a few questions about what's going on inside her head.' She pointed her wand at Winter. 'Enervate.'  
  
  
  
But Winter did not more a muscle. There wasn't even any recognition in her face that she had been hit by a spell.  
  
  
  
'Enervate,' Madam Lee repeated, but still Winter did not move.  
  
  
  
'What's wrong with her!' Faith said shrilly and loudly. 'Why doesn't she wake up? She's not … is she?'  
  
  
  
'No,' said Madam Lee, 'she's not dead.' Madam Lee did not speak in a reassuring voice, though. Her voice was a mixture between confusion and anxiousness.  
  
  
  
'What's wrong with her?' Aaron asked, but he only received a sharp "[I]shush![/I]" from Madam Lee. Dolcy didn't seem to know what to do either. She hovered in the background, rubbing the tip of her ear and rocking backwards and forwards on the spot.  
  
  
  
'There's enchantments going on here,' said Madam Lee. 'There's something funny going on, and before I can do anything else I need to know what happened to her.'  
  
  
  
'We're not sure,' Faith said truthfully. But what she followed this sentence up with was nowhere near true. 'I was just lying in bed, and I heard this screaming. I got out of bed and found Winter lying in the common room on the floor. At first I thought she must have been sleepwalking … but now you say there's enchantments going on, I'm not so sure.'  
  
  
  
Aaron stared blankly. Faith was so [I]convincing![/I] if the situation hadn't been so serious, he might have advised her to take up a career in acting.  
  
  
  
'And you!' Madam Lee pointed to Aaron. 'You're all wet!'  
  
  
  
'I … I …' he stammered. 'I was pouring myself a glass of water when Faith came to get me. I couldn't sleep, you see. When she said Winter had been hurt, I was so shocked …' he motioned to the patch of water on his robes.'  
  
  
  
'I see,' Madam Lee said, and turned back to Winter.  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
For days Aaron and Faith patiently waited by Winter's bedside, hoping day by day, hour by hour, that she would wake up. But she did not. Copper came and joined them every so often, but he always seemed to be somewhere else nowadays.  
  
  
  
It was after a week of unconsciousness that Professor Dumbledore was brought in. Aaron had not had many encounters with the headmaster at all, and was somewhat in awe of the great wizard that stood before him.  
  
  
  
As Dumbledore looked over the frail body of the girl, his expression was unreadable. It was thoughtful, but nothing else. No suspicion, no confusion, no looks of sudden revelation crossed his face.  
  
  
  
'This is no fall…' he said suddenly.  
  
  
  
'What?!' Madam Lee exclaimed. 'I … I'm not sure in understand you, Professor.'  
  
  
  
'Sorry,' he said, 'I don't know if I explained myself well enough. What I mean to say is this – it is possible that she fell, but there is some kind of enchantment on her that has nothing to do with falling down the stairs. If I could possible have a word with the students, please…'  
  
  
  
Aaron suddenly felt very very sick. Lying to Madam Lee was one thing … but lying to [I]Dumbledore?[/I] He wasn't sure if he could do that… but his thoughts were pointless, for the next second something happened. Something [I]very[/I] unexpected.  
  
  
  
'K?' a very small, very faint voice said. 'Where am I? Faith are you there? Aaron help me!'  
  
  
  
It was Winter – she had woken up. She was sitting up in bed, looking very tired and hurt, and very, very confused.  
  
  
  
Before either Aaron or Faith could say anything to Winter, she was leapt upon by Madam Lee and Professor Dumbledore. Madam Lee began administering lotions and potions, whereas Dumbledore asked questions.  
  
  
  
His questions were not hurried, and they were asked in an understanding voice.  
  
  
  
'Winter, I want to know [I]exactly[/I] where you feel pain right now, all right?'  
  
  
  
Aaron and Faith wanted to stay, but Dolcy, who told them that, 'maybe it would be better if they was to leave', ushered them out.  
  
  
  
'Do you think she'll remember anything?' Aaron asked worriedly.  
  
  
  
'I have no idea,' Faith said. 'But maybe it would be better if she did. We don't know what happened, and as Dumbledore said, it had something to do with enchantments. If she's been enchanted then goodness knows what has happened.' She was genuinely concerned.  
  
  
  
It was another two days before they were allowed to go and see Winter. After the first day, she had been suddenly enclosed, and no one had been allowed to see her.   
  
  
  
Now it was two days later, and they had been notified during potions that they were allowed to see Winter again. Snape had let them out ten minutes early to see her (with much complaining from Smokey) and now they were on their way,  
  
  
  
Faith had been trying eagerly to get in, and for the whole two days had been constantly on edge – even more so than Aaron. Copper hadn't really been around much, and neither Aaron nor Faith asked where he was.  
  
  
  
As they entered the hospital wing, they could see her sitting up in bed. There were dark circles under her eyes, but she managed a faint smile.  
  
  
  
'Hi,' she said, her voice barely above a whisper.  
  
  
  
'Winter!' Faith and Aaron exclaimed, as they ran to her bedside. Then they started asking many questions, all of them basically asked her what happened, and how did she feel.  
  
  
  
'What did they ask you?' Faith asked.  
  
  
  
'They just asked how I felt, and did I remember anything from the night I got hurt.'  
  
  
  
'What did you tell them? Did you tell them we were in the forest? Do you remember the night in the forest?' Aaron asked.  
  
  
  
'Of course I remember the night in the forest,' she shivered involuntarily. 'I don't think that night's something I'll ever forget. But I didn't tell them about it. I had a feeling you lot would have thought of something, so I sort of asked them how much they knew, and then I wanted to see if there was anything I could add onto the end. They fed me some long story about how they knew I fell down the stairs, and how you – Faith – came and found me, then went to get the boys. Incidentally, where is Copper?' she looked around them, as if he would be waiting behind the curtain, or something.  
  
  
  
'Don't look for him,' said Faith, 'he's gone back to that idiot Ben. Some misunderstanding before … he said,' Faith sneered. 'I don't know… from what I heard happened, Ben must have had to have a pretty good excuse to wriggle out of that one.' Of course, Aaron had told her everything about what had happened on the day of his first quidditch match.  
  
  
  
Winter looked downcast. 'I was hoping that wouldn't happen…' she sighed. 'But still, I supposed it's his choice.'  
  
  
  
Aaron heard Faith mutter something about bad choices, but then Winter continued.  
  
  
  
'Anyway, I just told them the same thing. I couldn't sleep, so I was just going to sit by the fire in the common room. Maybe go over a few notes from lessons. On my way out of the dorm as I was walking down the stairs I just sort of fell. They asked me if I thought anyone pushed me, or whether I tripped, or whether I heard anyone cast any spells. I just told them that I didn't know.'  
  
  
  
She coughed, and just from that cough, Aaron could see how weak she was. 'Do you really remember what happened?' he asked. Faith looked apprehensive, as though she wasn't sure what Winter had been through would be very pleasant. Aaron remembered that Faith had been the first person to find Winter, so it must be hard for her.  
  
  
  
'Sort of,' Winter said. 'I remember feeling really scared. I know I was hysterical. I was just walking around and something grabbed me. I shouted out for some help, but whatever had me started to run. My head hit a tree as it was carrying me, and I think that's how I got cut. Then they sort of put me down and said something funny.'  
  
  
  
'So it was a person?' Aaron asked.  
  
  
  
'A – oh … yes, it was,' said Winter, as though she had only just realised this was significant. 'It was a woman, but I was so disorientated I can't remember what she looked like. I heard her name… but I can't remember it… I've been trying and trying. Then this other person came along, another girl. They had an argument in whispers, but I can't remember what about. Then I blacked out, or was stupefied, because the next thing I remember is waking up in here.'  
  
  
  
They were silent for a moment. Aaron was thinking. 'So do they know what's wrong with you?' he finally asked.  
  
  
  
'Yes,' she said. 'They don't think it was anything really serious. Just a stupefying spell that went wrong – you know, the kind that knocks people out. Well, they reckon that the person who stupefied me was either in a big hurry, wasn't very experienced, or had a broken wand.'  
  
  
  
'They think someone did stupefy you?'  
  
  
  
'I think so. But I think that they think it's just a student playing a trick. At least, that's what it sounded like Dumbledore meant, from what he was saying.'  
  
  
  
Good, Aaron thought. If Dumbledore was fooled…  
  
  
  
'Are you all right now?'  
  
  
  
'Yes,' Winter said, 'just a little tired. 'I should be out of here soon enough, when I get my wits about me.' she smiled, and they spent the rest of the visit discussing how the inter-house quidditch championship was going. 


	26. Dumbledore's suspicions

A/N: HARRY POV  
  
*  
  
Harry heard a knock on his door. He put down the quill he was using to write his letter to George Weasley (who was working hard on [I]Weasley's Wizard Wheezes[/I] in Spain while his brother Fred played quidditch for England), and asked who it was.  
  
  
  
'It's Hermione.'  
  
  
  
'Come in.'  
  
  
  
Hermione entered, looking kind of serious. She was holding daisy in her arms.  
  
  
  
'Are you okay, Hermione?' Harry asked.  
  
  
  
'Yes,' she said, although she was not wearing her usual smile. 'But Dumbledore wants to talk to us Harry, you and me. He just sent me to get you. We have to go and talk to him right now, in his office.'  
  
  
  
'What about?' Harry was curious. Hermione had said the words "right now" as though they were crucial.  
  
  
  
'I'm not sure,' Hermione said, 'but he mentioned something about certain students arousing his suspicions.' 


	27. Summer

A/N: AARON POV  
  
*  
  
Winter faded into spring, and nothing much happened. Copper went back to being friends with Ben, and although Aaron was somewhat suspicious, he did not question their friendship.  
  
  
  
A few cauldrons went kaput in potions, and one day in charms another Slytherin, Tarquin Mack, accidentally turned Anne-Marie Dibraska's (his friend) hair black. But apart from that, spring passed with incidence.  
  
  
  
And then summer washed over them all, bringing cloudy blue skies and boiling hot days. Lessons inside turned into outdoor classes, and even if you were made to write, at least you could sit by the lake and do it. But there was one bad thing about summer: it brought exams.  
  
  
  
Neither Aaron, Faith nor Winter had heard anything further from Professor Dumbledore about the stair matter, so they had all assumed that he had decided it was just students playing around. Aaron was glad – he didn't want to get in trouble again.  
  
  
  
Potions, however, was still the same as it always had been. Snape was relatively kind to Aaron, but he could see why the Gryffindors objected to his attitude. Aaron didn't think it was his imagination that Snape treated Slytherins better…  
  
  
  
But Aaron didn't make a fuss. The dungeons were always cool, and he didn't really take to any of the Gryffindors really. None of them except Jenny. He cared about what she thought, but not what her friends did.  
  
  
  
The quidditch season had gone averagely. First Slytherin had beaten Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor had beaten Ravenclaw. But then Gryffindor had suffered a huge defeat from Slytherin, and Ravenclaw had an amazing win over Hufflepuff, so it had been Slytherin and Ravenclaw in the final. Ravenclaw won by ten points, for even though Slytherin scored amazingly and Ravenclaw didn't get one goal, the Ravenclaw seeker caught the snitch just before Sameej could catch it for Slytherin. 'We'll get it next year,' Angus had vowed.   
  
  
  
Letters had passed between Elsie and Aaron all year, with her becoming his regular pen pal. He had asked her why she had written "[I]his time will come[/I]" on the back of her first letter to him, but she passed it off as something to do with an anagram game she had been playing, and she was sorry if it confused him.  
  
  
  
The three students sat by the lake, dipping their toes into the water and watching the creatures below swimming by.  
  
  
  
'Aquabas!' Winter tried again, aiming her wand at the lake. This time a small dribble fell out of the end,  
  
  
  
'No, no, no…' Aaron said, and took her wand. 'You do it [I]this[/I] way!' he took his wand in his left hand and held it so it faced down toward the water. 'Aquabas!' he said, as tried to keep it completely still. The amount of water that fell out of the end of his wand could have filled a champagne bottle – well over the amount Professor Clearwater was expecting.  
  
  
  
Winter sighed. 'How do you [I]do[/I] that? I can't do this stupid water spell, it's way too hard!'  
  
  
  
'That's why she's testing us on it,' said Faith, as she lazily pulled out her wand. Faith was lying on the bank, with her eyes shut. She reminded Aaron distinctly of a cat, with her lazy attitude in the sun, and her sleek black hair. 'Aquabas,' she said, and although some water came out, it was not as much as she could usually produce.  
  
  
  
'Your being lazy,' Aaron jibed.  
  
  
  
'The effect of sun…' she said, as she rolled over to face him.  
  
  
  
They heard footsteps approaching them. Aaron turned around to see who it was, and smiled when he saw it was Jenny.  
  
  
  
'Hi!'  
  
  
  
'Hi, can I sit with you?'  
  
  
  
Faith sighed and rolled over again.  
  
  
  
'Ignore her, she's a dead set Slytherin,' Aaron said, grinning slightly. 'Of course you can sit with us, right?' he gave Winter and Faith a pleading look.  
  
  
  
'Sure.'  
  
  
  
'If she likes.' This reply was from Faith.  
  
  
  
'I can go if you want…' Jenny stepped backwards.  
  
  
  
'No, no!' Aaron said, moving a little so there was a space next to him, and at the same time wishing that his friends weren't such believers in Slytherin pride. 'They're under the influence of sun, come and sit with us.'  
  
  
  
'I just can't get the hang of this spell!' Winter said, frustrated. She shook her wand and put each hand on either end as if threatening to break it. 'Do you understand?' she shouted to it.  
  
  
  
'Er, you're talking to a piece of wood…' Faith said, her speech becoming evermore sleepy.  
  
  
  
'Shut up,' Winter said, and then laughed. She then readdressed the wand. 'Right, let's make a deal.'  
  
  
  
'You're talking to a piece of wood!' Faith repeated.  
  
  
  
Winter made no sign she had heard, and continued to speak to the wand. 'If you work for me in this exam, then I'll… I'll… I promise to stop banging you on the desk when you don't work! Or… or… I promise to stop poking Smokey in the back with you whenever he bugs me! Or…'  
  
  
  
'That's you?'  
  
  
  
'What?'  
  
  
  
'The one who pokes him in the back … he's really bugged at that. I won't tell him,' she said quickly, looking at them. 'It's kind of funny, actually,' she grinned.  
  
  
  
'Look,' Faith said, suddenly seeming to spring to life again. She sat up and stretched, looking more like a leisurely cat by the minute. 'I'll go indoors and work on that charm with you, as long as you help me a bit with history of magic. You're good with the writing stuff.'  
  
  
  
Winter nodded, and they two girls got up and headed towards the main castle. Aaron picked up a pebble and tried to skim it across the lake surface, but all that happened was that it went "plop" and fell into the depths of the water.  
  
  
  
'No,' Jenny said. 'You do it like [I]this[/I],' she took hold of Aaron's arm and put a stone in his palm. Then she pulled his arm back into his neck and pushed it forward. The pebble skimmed its way across the lakes, bouncing every so often in light arcs.  
  
  
  
'Apello,' he said. 'There. Now the stone will keep moving.'  
  
  
  
'Cheater,' she teased, and gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder.  
  
  
  
'Do [I]you[/I] believe that Gryffindors and Slytherins shouldn't be friends?' she asked him. To his great surprise, he hesitated.  
  
  
  
'No,' he said, after a while. 'But I do object to Gryffindors who treat us badly, who say we all think that we're above them. That's why I can't feel entirely sorry for Oregan. He's got to let go of the fact that whoever killed his parents is not in our year!'  
  
  
  
'But their child might be,' she looked at him, her eyes more doe-like than ever. Her hair fell over her face, slightly covering it.  
  
  
  
'But … children don't always take after their parents! I guess maybe the only reason some of us are horrible because you lot expect us to be horrible in the first place… that's why I don't like Gryffindors who judge us.'  
  
  
  
'But you don't mind Slytherins doing the same thing?'   
  
  
  
'No, I don't think it's fair.'  
  
  
  
'Then why do you like Winter and Faith?'  
  
  
  
Aaron was quiet for a moment. He supposed she had a point. 'I like them as people,' he said. 'They're good friends, and loyal, and fun, and I love 'em to death – but I suppose that is one aspect of them I'd change. But isn't there something you would change about all your friends?'  
  
  
  
'Yes,' she said, quietly. Her hair fell ever further over her face. 'I'd put you in Gryffindor.'  
  
  
  
'I know,' he said longingly. 'I wanted to be there. I [I]want[/I] to be there. You know I want to be there – but I guess there isn't anything I can do now. And I've made some friends where I am… and you've got Oregan…'  
  
  
  
Perhaps it was the thought that Jenny already had Oregan, or that fact that when she looked up suddenly and all that hair fell out of her face her face was startling in the fading light, but something jolted inside Aaron. Something he couldn't quite place, and dismissed immediately.  
  
  
  
She spoke softly as though she didn't want anyone to hear, or as though her voice had temporarily gone. 'Yes I suppose, I have got Oregan…' but Aaron could see something restless in her eyes.  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
'Now class!' Professor Clearwater said. She was in a particularly good mood, maybe because of the sunshine, or because the school year was almost over, or because she enjoyed bringing tests on them all. Anyhow, they were all glad for her good mood, because it gave them a little bit of leeway in the exams. 'You've all got your jugs in front of you, and as you all know, you're going to be tested on the water charm. I expect to see you all conjure at least five hundred millilitres, okay?'  
  
  
  
There was a mumble as a reply. She nodded. 'Good, then you may begin any time you wish. But remember, you only get three chances, and don't try and cheat – the jugs know only to fill up three times. No more.' She flashed them all a huge smile and waved her arm to indicate them to start.  
  
  
  
'Right.' Aaron turned to face his jug. He was standing next to Winter and Faith, on the bench in front of Godfrey and Ike, and behind Copper and Ben. He pulled out his wand, and with one slight flick, he held his hand rigid, pointing downwards. 'Aquabas!' water poured from the end of his wand, filling the jug up to six hundred millilitres.   
  
  
  
'Aaron, you are just [I]too[/I] good!' he heard Faith exclaim from next to him.  
  
  
  
'I'm just … lucky …' he said. He meant lucky as in a fluke, but obviously Faith took it as lucky meaning talented.  
  
  
  
'Since when has "lucky" been a definition of "gifted"?' Winter heard what she said and laughed slightly, before cursing loudly.  
  
  
  
'What's wrong?' asked Aaron.  
  
  
  
'Look!' she said, pointing to the level at which the water she had conjured had gone too. 'Four hundred and fifty five! Just my luck… s'pose I'd better try again,' she smiled, as thought glad she now knew she could at least make the target.  
  
  
  
'Professor Clearwater!' Aaron raised his hand. 'Please can you come and check mine before it evaporates?'  
  
  
  
Professor Clearwater came round to see what he had done, and as she was checking his work, Aaron looked around to see what everyone else was doing. Godfrey and Ike were struggling, the looks of ultimate concentration on their faces gave that away. But Ben and Copper seemed to be doing something entirely different. Their jugs stood on the desk, with water in them, but the two boys seemed to have abandoned the exam. They were looking at something under the table, and when Aaron crouched down, he could see what it was. It was the notebook Copper claimed to have seen the writing in – the writing about Faith, and Aaron.   
  
  
  
Aaron walked around the bench. 'What's that?'  
  
  
  
Copper looked guiltily upwards at him, and immediately moved to hide the book.  
  
  
  
'Nothing,' he said, quickly fumbling with the pages to shut them. Aaron noticed one page float slowly down to the floor. He left it there – for the moment. 'It's just Ben's diary. You know, just … people, and stuff …'  
  
  
  
'Oh damn it!' Aaron accidentally made his wand slip from his hands and fall to the floor. ''Scuse me,' he said, and bent down to pick it up. While kneeling down, he quickly snatched up the piece of paper as well. 'Sorry,' he said, standing up. 'Didn't mean to intrude,' and made his way back over to Winter and Faith.  
  
  
  
He pocketed the piece of paper deftly, making a mental note to read it later.  
  
  
  
'Very well done Aaron,' she said. 'I don't think I need to ask, but is this your final entry for the test?' he nodded, and she moved on, not after scribbling something down on her paper.  
  
  
  
The exam finished, and they began to walk to their next exam – defence against the dark arts. 


	28. The dream analyser

A/N: HARRY POV  
  
*  
  
Harry watched Hermione's last class leave. First year Slytherins. They seemed to be different to teach than to be taught with – although some of them did jog unpleasant memories. He had been talking with her in the classroom when the class had come in for their end of year exam.  
  
  
  
Some of them, however, were quite bright, and were perfectly courteous. Aaron Bulstrode was an exceptionally good student, and two of his friends were also going along the right lines. He was so bright, it made Harry wonder whether he was in the right house or not – but then he reminded himself that the sorting hat was never wrong. If anyone knew that, he should.  
  
  
  
After they left, he and Hermione were left in the room.  
  
  
  
'So you can still make tonight?' she asked him, as she began moving desks into place.  
  
  
  
'What?' Harry asked, and got up to help her.  
  
  
  
'Oh,' she said, confused, 'so you mean Ginny didn't tell you?'  
  
  
  
'Didn't tell me what?' Harry was confused.  
  
  
  
'We're going out tonight,' Hermione said, pushing the last desk into place and daintily sitting on it.  
  
  
  
'Oh, then if you want me to babysit…'  
  
  
  
'No Harry!' she exclaimed, and then sighed, exasperated. 'We want you to come [I]with[/I] us.'  
  
  
  
'Us?'  
  
  
  
'Ron, Ginny and I. Ginny was supposed to tell you – we're going out to the Carving Knife … Fink's got some coc[I][/I]ktail or the other he wants launching. So are you booked up for tonight?'  
  
  
  
'No,' he said, without hesitation. 'As long as I don't have to drink too much of this concoction of Fink's.'  
  
  
  
They both laughed, for they had both been testers of Fink's coc[I][/I]ktails before. They didn't dislike them, they just had to be careful of the amount you drunk, otherwise "The Stomach Churner" and "The Room Spinner" would lives up to their names!  
  
  
  
'Exactly,' she said, 'what's the point in having three drinks when you can just have one Head Banger?' There was a cry from the corner. 'Oh [I]honestly[/I] Daisy!' Hermione said, and picked the scowling child up. 'Sometimes I wonder where you got your noisy genes from.'  
  
  
  
'Probably from Viktor "Loudmouth" Krum,' Harry said sarcastically, causing Hermione to give him an evil look.  
  
  
  
Suddenly a bird landed on the windowsill, a very white feathery owl, still with the same haughty demeanour as ever before. There was a letter tied around her leg, and Harry could see that it bore the Hogwarts crest – obviously a letter from someone inside the school, then.  
  
  
  
'Hedwig!' he said. 'What have you got for me tonight, then?'  
  
  
  
He took the letter from her, and opened it. Narrow curly handwriting filled the page that could only be one person's.  
  
  
  
'It's from Dumbledore,' he said, glancing down the page just to check.  
  
  
  
'Is it about… what we were talking about?' Hermione asked tentatively.  
  
  
  
Harry hesitated. There really wasn't much to say at all, as there was only two or three sentences on the whole page.  
  
  
  
'I'm not sure,' he said, 'let me read it to you. [I]Dear Harry. I need to have a word with you about Aaron Bulstrode again, but about something else. I have thought of some information, which may involve you. Feel free to drop into my office any time you like, and make sure Hermione comes too. You know the password. Albus Dumbledore.[/I]'  
  
  
  
'I wonder what it is,' pondered Hermione, 'and how come it involves you?' She sounded curious.  
  
  
  
'He said it concerned me, but nothing else' Harry said, 'and how, I cannot imagine. But it cannot be anything huge,' he reassured her, which made her smile. 'We already know so much!'  
  
  
  
'But there is much we don't know…' she said mysteriously.  
  
  
  
'You can say that again!' Harry exclaimed. 'I feel the only person I know everything about is myself!'  
  
  
  
Hermione let out a short 'ha!' as if to say, "as if."  
  
  
  
'What?' Harry asked, genuinely shocked. 'Are you trying to say [I]I[/I] can't trust [I]myself?'[/I]  
  
  
  
'Yes!' Hermione said, as though this was obvious. 'You don't know everything about yourself! Or you're hiding things!'  
  
  
  
'I am not! I have never!' Harry protested indignantly, which caused a roll of the eyes from Hermione.  
  
  
  
'You forget, Harry Potter, that I know you,' she gave a coy smile, as they left the room.  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
As Harry came home that night, a lot of things were running through his mind. They weren't running very clearly, or in very straight lines, due to the amount of alcohol he had consumed, but running, they were.  
  
  
  
Hermione's words had struck him. Harry laughed slightly, for she had probably meant them to. [I]'Yes!' Hermione said, as though this was obvious. 'You don't know everything about yourself! Or you're hiding things!'[/I]  
  
  
  
He had vehemently denied this, but the more he thought about it, the more he felt she was right. He had lived almost eighteen years of his life, not knowing who his real descendant was. Who was to say there wasn't more! But he didn't think he was in denial, was he? And if he was, what was he in denial from?  
  
  
  
The night had gone averagely, with polite conversation passing between Ginny and himself, and Ron and Hermione all over each other like never before.  
  
  
  
'Well I suppose they have got a hell of a lot of catching up to do,' Ginny had said, when Hermione had slipped off for a bathroom break yet again that evening, and Ron had felt so chivalrous as to go and wait for her.  
  
  
  
Now he was home, and as he staggered into his room, a memory came to him. It was a memory from not so long ago, and he wasn't quite sure what it meant, but if he just found out…  
  
  
  
It was his dream. The dream with the old man, and the second dream (or were they connected?) with Ginny as that horrible harpy. Out of his desk he pulled a translucent device. It looked a bit like an old wax tablet, only made from some unknown material. It was a dream analyser.  
  
  
  
Very rare, and very, very precious, it had been a present from Sirius to him on the eve of his eighteenth birthday. He did not use it often, sometimes scared at what it would come out with, but on this occasion he felt he had to find out what his dreams meant.  
  
  
  
He told the story to the analyser. How he had walked down the street that had seemed to familiar, yet he could not recognise it. The boy on the balcony, and the old man who told him the prophecy. Then of how he a dream he woke up, and saw Ginny, and she had looked beautiful. Then when Harry had given into desire, she had been nothing but a harpy.  
  
  
  
He told everything to the dream analyser, and waited patiently for the result. After about half an hour of waiting, they came. Harry took one look at the analyser, preparing to read something of doom, or fate. All his life people had predicted his death … and it had given him a natural abhorrence for any kind of divination.   
  
  
  
Slowly, he started to read what it said.  
  
  
  
Words started to appear on the dream analyser, and Harry read them as they appeared. The first few sentences alone shocked him greatly.  
  
  
  
My dear, it started, it would seem that a few things have come from the information in your dreams. But the main one I can tell you is that you are in love. Big time. You've really fallen for someone, my boy.  
  
  
  
From hair I can tell the sensitivity, and the balcony is a big clue. There was a balcony in [I]Romeo and Juliet,[/I] and the appearance of it in dreams can be very significant. The boy on the balcony can be a sign of young power developing, but whether that is connected with love, even I cannot say…  
  
  
  
The house… now that can mean honour and dignity, which could also be a sign that you are repressing this love, am I right? Or even denying it. I could be giving you a big shock by telling you how you feel.  
  
  
  
Harry couldn't believe what he was reading, but the more he read, the more his mind cleared.  
  
  
  
The angel, or the woman who looked like one. This means big success in love. I don't know why you're repressing this, boy, because from what I can see this might be your one.  
  
  
  
[I]You're "one,"[/I] Harry thought, slightly sceptically.   
  
  
  
But then again… he read, this dream strikes me a slightly odd. It's very very clear, and you seem to remember details. I would be inclined to think this is some kind of premonition… without meaning to scare. If you have had premonitions before I think it is [I]extremely[/I] likely that you could be foreseeing the future.   
  
  
  
Great, thought Harry. Premonitions and predictions. Wasn't he just the regular Professor Trelawney!  
  
  
  
But as he went to bed, and drifted off to sleep, premonitions weren't on his mind.  
  
  
  
Ginny was.  
  
  
  
He liked her. He [I]really[/I] liked her. He hadn't been wrong when he was seventeen, just messed up. But what could he do? There was nothing he could think of. Ginny would never love him again, would she? 


	29. I'll be back, and I'll be waiting

A/N: AARON POV  
  
*  
  
The year was nearly over, and Aaron was nostalgic about his first year in school. They were sitting in defence against the dark arts, and their results were being handed round.  
  
  
  
'Thanks,' he said, as Professor Granger handed him his exam paper, and a spare piece that evaluated his practical.   
  
  
  
'Well done,' she said kindly. 'You beat my personal best when I was at Hogwarts, and that took me years to attain.' She lowered her voice. 'You're a very gifted boy, Aaron Bulstrode. Don't let that gift go to waste,' Aaron saw her glance across the classroom but he didn't quite follow her gaze. She moved onto Winter, who was sitting next to Aaron.  
  
  
  
He looked at his paper and saw that he had gained a hundred and fifty-two percent in the written exam, and a hundred and fifty-six percent in the practical.  
  
  
  
He scanned through the comments section on him (sort of like an end of year report), and phrases jumped out of the page. [I]"Talented, has particular talent in charms from what I see… if he continues on this vein I can see he is destined for good things…[/I]  
  
  
  
'You know,' he said to Faith, 'Professor Granger never was my favourite teacher, but she's suddenly starting to grow on me,' he smiled.  
  
  
  
'You said that about Professor Clearwater after she gave you a hundred and seventy-five percent in that exam!' Faith replied, while looking at what she had been given, a slightly disgruntled look on her face.  
  
  
  
'You okay?' Winter asked.   
  
  
  
'Sort of,' she said. 'I can't believe this! I got ninety-eight percent! I would at least have been happy with ninety-nine…' she trailed off.  
  
  
  
'Faith, if you have got one percent you would have said that you were happy with two!' it was true, Faith set terribly high targets for herself. Winter and Aaron gave each other a, "typical," look, smiling.  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
'And so,' Dumbledore began, 'we reach the penultimate day of yet another successful year at Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. Though few may argue there were a few hitches, we keep the opinion that these are the things that make our school what it is. This year only, we have made several new targets for exam marks. We have some very talented new quidditch players, and we still hold onto the memories of the older ones. To those of you who are leaving this year, I wish you all the luck in the world in whatever you choose to do. You came here as naïve youngsters,' laughter went round the hall, as seventh years ridiculed the idea of being naïve.   
  
  
  
'Yes, yes. Hush, hush,' Dumbledore said, waving his hand to them all. 'You came here as, well, perhaps not so naïve youngsters, but now you leave as fully-fledged witches and wizards. Some of you may have had a bumpier ride than others… but if you sit there tonight, then you know you have made it.' he smiled at them, and the students applauded.  
  
  
  
'And to my first years…' he said affectionately, opening his arms, a slight smile on his face. 'Well I'm glad you all came. I'm glad to get a better bunch of students then I've had in years!'  
  
  
  
A chorus of, "oi!" and, "what about us?" went around the hall from the other years. Dumbledore grinned broadly.  
  
  
  
'All right, so perhaps I was exaggerating. But this year certainly has been eventful. Each and every single one of you should be proud of yourselves, as I am certainly proud of my students.'  
  
  
  
A great applause went up, and one or two teachers seemed to be snivelling slightly, and bringing out the hankies. Aaron saw Hagrid sitting at the staff table with a handkerchief that looked more like a tablecloth, unashamedly wiping his eyes at Dumbledore's speech. Aaron guessed that all the teachers had seventh year students that they would miss.  
  
  
  
'And now,' said Dumbledore, getting a piece of paper from his pocket, 'I bring us around to the house cup for this year. This last year we have seen a ferocious battle of house points – not that I believe it should be competition at all,' he gave them a sly wink. 'And this is how, at the end of the year, the points stand. Hufflepuff – five hundred points exactly!'  
  
  
  
Everyone on the Hufflepuff cheered. None of them had expected to win the cup, but five hundred points was an awful lot.  
  
  
  
'Five hundred and ninety-two points goes to Gryffindor house!' not a lot of people clapped on the Slytherin table for this, in fact no one really. But Aaron turned around and clapped anyway – he wasn't going to give the people who agreed with this stupid divide the satisfaction of seeing him dismiss his friends.  
  
  
  
'Five hundred and ninety-[I]three[/I] points to Ravenclaw house!' Dumbledore said, incredulity in his voice. A great big "ooooooooooooohh!" went up from several tables, at the closeness of the points.  
  
  
  
'But,' Dumbledore continued, still looking slightly amused. 'The winners of this years house cup, is Slytherin house, with a massive six hundred and thirty-eight points!'  
  
  
  
Aaron punched one arm in the air and whooped, many Slytherins stood up on the benches they were sitting on, and they all made a great noise. Aaron couldn't hear himself, let alone anyone else!  
  
  
  
The hall suddenly turned into a vision of green and silver, and even Professor Snape couldn't keep the smile from his face. The end of term feast went without a hitch, and Aaron went to bed that night feeling very, very full, and wishing he had resisted the last Viennese whirl Winter had offered him.  
  
  
  
But as he drifted off to a (slightly restless) sleep, he was thinking. He wanted to stay here, at Hogwarts, all time, but he knew he couldn't. For one, he wouldn't be allowed, and for two, he was slightly curious has to how Millicent was. He had made up his mind about some things, the main one being that Millicent would soon know about the letter he had found.  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
It was the next morning that Aaron found out that knowing you are going to do something, and actually doing it, are two completely different things. As they drifted off on the lake away from Hogwarts castle, Aaron accidentally let his oar fall into the lake while preoccupied with other thoughts.  
  
  
  
He also found, to his great surprise, that he couldn't speak for some reason or the other. Perhaps something was blocking his throat. Yes, that was it. The weather was swelteringly hot, and Aaron had a strange desire to jump in the lake, but he resisted, and boarded the train with the rest of the first years.  
  
  
  
'Let's sit here,' Faith said, as she and Winter found an empty carriage, and sat themselves down on the seats. 'Well, aren't you going to sit down?' she asked Aaron, who was still looking out of the window onto the platform.  
  
  
  
'Not yet…' he said distractedly, as the guard blew his whistle and the Hogwarts express emitted a large cloud of steam, that temporarily engulfed Aaron's head, and resulted in his having a coughing fir. But still he did not get into the carriage.  
  
  
  
When the steam dissipated and the Hogwarts express was so far down the platform it was hard to see the end, Aaron managed to see what he had been waiting for. A figure stood at the end of Hogsmeade station platform one, waving into the distance. Aaron waved back and smiled, glad to see that Harry Potter hadn't been able to leave without saying goodbye.  
  
  
  
BOOM! The pack of exploding snap detonated in Aaron's face – the third pack that journey. He put another piece of Droobles bestest best blowing gum version two point four into his mouth and blew another rainbow up the roof of the carriage.   
  
  
  
'You know, it's not a fashionable thing to have no eyebrows,' Faith said, grinning.  
  
  
  
'Are we nearly there yet?' a pasty-faced Winter asked, bringing her head back from where she had been hanging it out of the carriage window. She did not like long journeys.  
  
  
  
Faith glanced her watch. 'We should be there any minute now,' she said. 'That's good, because it's getting dark.' She was right, the sky outside, which had been so blue earlier that day, was slowly getting darker.  
  
  
  
Suddenly there was a knock on the carriage door. 'Come in!' Aaron called.  
  
  
  
The door opened and Jenny stepped into the carriage.  
  
  
  
'Hi!' Aaron said warmly. Faith and Winter both said "hi," too, though not quite as warmly.  
  
  
  
'Hi,' she said, twiddling her thumbs. 'I just came… I… I wanted to say… er…' she eyed Winter and Faith nervously, as though they were about to do something like shout at her. Aaron knew they would do no such thing, but Jenny [I]was[/I] painfully shy. 'I wanted to say goodbye, and I hope you have a good summer, and that I'm going to miss you because you're my friend. I'll try and send you an owl, because I don't think you have one.' She paused for a second, as though thinking over her next sentence. 'I also wanted to say,' and this time she was talking to Winter and Faith, 'that even though I don't know if you like me or not, I think you two are all right, and I came to say goodbye to you, too.'  
  
  
  
Aaron grinned, as he saw Winter and Faith struggling to come up with some kind of mature reply, and laughed slightly as they both stammered their "G-goodbye's". he hugged Jenny before the train stopped, and they all got off, onto platform nine and three quarters.  
  
  
  
Aaron saw Faith's mum first. He could tell it was Faith's mum because she was almost identical to her daughter Aaron saw exactly where Faith got her looks from.   
  
  
  
'Mum,' Faith said, 'these are my friends, Aaron and Winter.' Aaron shook Mrs Gettherd's hand politely, before noticing Millicent in the distance. She was looking grumpy.  
  
  
  
'I – I'd better go,' he said nervously, before hastily departing. He took his trunk over to where Millicent was standing. When they were face to face, they did not touch. They did not hug, as siblings reunited should to. She did not even place her hand around his shoulders. She just said a very polite, very formal, "hello."  
  
  
  
Before they left, Aaron glanced over his shoulder at the crowds. There was Faith, with her dark-haired mother. Winter was standing by her parents, both of which were very tall and skinny. Jenny was hovering by the edge of a crowd – her father was obviously in the midst of it, signing autographs.  
  
  
  
'I will return,' he mouthed to her, through the crowd. 'I'll be back, and I'll be waiting.' 


End file.
